The Program
by Bad Ronald
Summary: A Battle RoyaleEva fusion by Bad Ronald and Kenshiro Mitsui. An alternate ending to Eva, the surviving NERV crew are forced to kill each other in a gruesome game of survival. You either get with the program... or you die. (REVISED)
1. Prologue: Initiate Program

**Intro Notes _(revised):_** Welcome to The Program, a joint effort by Bad Ronald and Kenshiro Mitsui. The story has been through quite a bit of flak and turmoil, but it is always to be expected with fan fictions in general. However, after a combined two and a half months of brainstorming, we are able to bring you the fruits of our labors.

The story is written in the same spirit as the novel/manga Battle Royale by Koushun Takami and the movie counterpart directed by Kinji Fukasaku, a disturbingly violent, psychological high-octane thriller. We tried to incorporate these elements while staying in an "Eva" state of mind, and this is the result.

Enjoy, and review, please.

**_Updated 10.13.2003. This chapter has been updated significantly, to the point that we recommend you to look it over again, especially the "letters," and an added part in the end of the story. If not, you will have seriously missed some key facts.  
_**

* * *

FROM THE DESK OF THE CHIEF COMMANDER OF THE JSSDF

TO: BATTLE SUPERVISOR OF JSSDF

SUBJECT: NERV

THE **COMMANDER OF THE JSSDF**, IN CONJUNCTION WITH THE BOARD OF THE **UNITED NATIONS** AND THE **JAPANESE SECRETARY OF HOMELAND DEFENSE,** HEREBY **ORDER THE JSSDF TO CEASE THE TERMINATION OF NERV PERSONNEL, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.** YOU ARE ALSO TO **REVOKE ANY TIES ONCE HELD WITH SEELE AND TO REFUSE THEIR ORDERS.** THE UN AND JSSDF WILL TAKE ACTION AGAINST ANY OFFICER WHO DOES NOT COMPLY WITH THIS ORDER.

WHILE LETHAL FORCE IS STILL ALLOWED FOR NERV EMPLOYEES WHO REFUSE TO SURRENDER, THE STRIKE FORCE IS NOW UNDER ORDERS TO **CAPTURE AS MUCH PERSONNEL AS POSSIBLE.**

IN ADDITION, YOU ARE TO **CAPTURE AS MUCH OF THE ORIGINAL CHILDREN FROM THE MARDUK REPORT AS POSSIBLE.** MOST OF THE CHILDREN ARE SCATTERED THROUGHOUT TOKYO-1, TOKYO-2, AND KYOTO. ONCE THIS IS ACCOMPLISHED, ALL CAPTIVES ARE TO BE HELD IN THE DETENTION AREAS IN CENTRAL DOGMA UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

A PRESS REPORT CONCERNING THIS MATTER WILL BE DISTRIBUTED TO ALL MAJOR NEWS NETWORKS IN A MATTER OF 48 HOURS

* * *

FROM THE DESK OF THE SECRETARY OF DEFENSE OF OPERATIONS, JSSDF 

TO: BATTLE SUPERVISOR OF JSSDF

CC: SHIROU SHIROTA

SUBJECT: NERV PRISONERS

CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR EFFORTS TO CAPTURE AND CONTAIN NERV PERSONNEL. FORTY-EIGHT HOURS FROM NOW, AT 0800, THE JSSDF IS ORDERED TO SEND THE PRISONERS TO THE MAIN CONTROL ROOM FOR A SPECIAL BRIEFING BY CHIEF COMMANDER SHIROU SHIROTA. AT THAT POINT, COMMANDER SHIROTA WILL TAKE CONTROL OF THE FOLLOWING OPERATION THAT WILL INVOLVE THE ENTIRETY OF NERV HQ.

IN ADDITION, **THE MAGI SUPERCOMPUTERS, THE EVANGELIONS, THE FIRST ANGEL, AND ALL WEAPONS CACHES** LOCATED INSIDE CENTRAL DOGMA ARE TO BE **MOVED OUT OF THE GEOFRONT** AND TAKEN TO SECURE FACILITIES WITHIN THOSE FORTY-EIGHT HOURS. THE MAGI AND WEAPONS CACHES STASHED THROUGHOUT NERV ARE TO BE TAKEN TO THE KYOTO JSSDF FACILITY, AND ADAM (LOCATED IN NERV'S LCL PLANT) AND THE EVANGELIONS ARE TO BE RELOCATED TO AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION IN MORIOKA.

IT HAS COME TO HQ'S UNDERSTANDING THAT SEELE IS GIVING ORDERS TO LAUNCH THE **NINE TRANSPORT AIRCRAFT DESIGNATED TO CARRY THE MASS-PRODUCED EVANGELION UNITS.** YOKOHAMA AIR FORCE BASE HAS BEEN GIVEN ORDERS TO **REFUSE THEM AIR CLEARANCE SHOULD THEY TRY TO TAKE OFF, AND ARE TO BE SHOT DOWN ON SITE IF THE PILOTS REFUSE TO COMPLY.  
**

* * *

TOP SECRET FOR THE COMMANDER OF THE JSSDF ONLY

OUR ORDERS HAVE GONE UNHEEDED SINCE THE BEGINNING OF THE INVASION LAUNCH. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, SHIROTA? OUR SOURCES TELL US THAT THE FORCES ABRUPTLY STOPPED THEIR ATTACK ON THE GEOFRONT, THE EVA-SERIES CAN NOT RECEIVE CLEARANCE TO GET OFF THE GROUND, AND THAT THIS MAY EVEN BE RELEASED TO THE MEDIA! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT CONSEQUENCES WILL BEFALL YOU IF YOU DARE CROSS US. THIS WILL BE YOUR ONE AND ONLY WARNING, SHIROTA.

* * *

**TOKYO NEWS SERVICE SPECIAL REPORT**

UNIDENTIFIED SOURCES TELL US THAT A FEW KEY HIGH-PROFILE GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS IN THE DIET HAVE BEEN TAKEN UNDER CUSTODY - -

**REUTERS NEWS REPORT, MOSCOW**

VLADIMIR BOSTANOVICH, FORMER EX-KGB AGENT AND CURRENT SECRETARY OF WORLD AFFAIRS, WAS TAKEN INTO CUSTODY BY UNITED NATIONS TASK FORCE MEMBERS, AND ESCORTED TO THE AIRPORT - -

**CNN WASHINGTON**

FBI AGENTS, WITH ASSISTANCE FROM THE UNITED NATIONS, STORMED AN INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX BELONGING TO A KEEL LORENZ. THE REASONS FOR THE RAID, AS WELL AS INFORMATION ABOUT LORENZ, ARE UNKNOWN AS OF YET, AS THE FBI WILL NOT DIVULGE ANY - -

**ASSOCIATED PRESS, SOUTH AFRICA**

JARVIS JONES, WELL KNOWN SOUTH AFRICAN PHILANTHROPIST AND DIAMOND TYCOON, WAS ASSASSINATED TODAY AS HE WAS ENTERING HIS LIMOSINE WITH HIS BODYGUARDS AT HIS JOHANNESBURG ESTATE. POLICE SUSPECT IT WAS THE WORK OF A SNIPER CONNECTED WITH REBELS IN THE AREA.

**ASSOCIATED PRESS, NEW HONG KONG**

FLYNN TAGGART, UN DIRECTOR OF SPECIAL AFFAIRS, WAS FOUND DEAD IN HIS OFFICE IN THE NEW HONG KONG COMMERCIAL DISTRICT. LOCAL OFFICIALS SAY IT WAS AN APPARENT SUICIDE - -

**ASSOCIATED PRESS, CNN, REUTERS**

A PRESS REPORT WAS RECEIVED FROM THE JAPANESE SPECIAL STRIKE DEFENSE FORCE CONCERNING THE LARGE-SCALE ATTACK ON AN ABANDONED TOKYO-3 MORE THAN 48 HOURS AGO. IT STATES THAT THE GROUP KNOWN AS 'NERV,' WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE PROTECTION OF THE PLANET FROM EXTRA-TERRESTRIALS CALLED 'ANGELS,' WAS SIEGED AT ITS HEADQUARTERS IN THE TOKYO-3 GEOFRONT. MANY OF ITS EMPLOYEES WERE KILLED OR CAPTURED. ALMOST EVERYTHING CONCERNING THIS MATTER IS UNDER A LARGE CLOUD OF SECRECY, AS THE JSSDF REFUSED TO COMMENT ANYMORE ON THE MATTER, ONLY SIMPLY STATING THAT THE ORGANIZATION'S CRIMES WERE INDESCRIBABLE, AND THAT PUNISHMENTS WILL BE DEALT ACCORDINGLY TO ITS EMPLOYEES - -

* * *

**FOR YOUR EYES ONLY**

**TO: SHIROU SHIROTA**

CREWS HAVE BEEN UNABLE TO REMOVE THE FIRST ANGEL FROM THE CENTRAL DOGMA'S LCL PLANT, DUE TO LACK OF RESOURCES, AND A FEAR AMONG SEVERAL CREWS OF AWAKENING THE ANGEL. THE FORTY-EIGHT HOUR MARK IS APPROACHING QUICKLY, AND WE REQUIRE ORDERS TO MOVE ANY FURTHER OR TO ABORT THE ANGEL'S REMOVAL.

**RE: 'ANGEL' REMOVAL**

**TO: TRANSPORT CREW**

ABORT ANY FURTHER ATTEMPTS TO REMOVE THE ANGEL FROM DOGMA. THE DIFFICULTY IN RELOCATING IT BELIES ITS USES FOR THE NEAR FUTURE.

- - SHIROTA

* * *

**The Program**

_An Evangelion fan fiction_

_based on the novel Battle Royale_

_by Koushun Takami_

_And the movie directed by Kinji Fukasaku_

_Written by:_

_Bad Ronald_

_Kenshiro Mitsui-san_

**Prologue: The Last 48 Hours - Initiate Program  
**

* * *

41 Participants Remaining…

* * *

The soldier's tone of voice was harsh and menacing as he called out into the darkness of the holding cell. "Get up. We're taking you to the control room." 

Two people stood up, casting long shadows in the dim light provided from the outside, throwing figures of a teenaged boy and girl on the grey metal wall. Shinji Ikari walked out of the holding cell first, his eyes squinting as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. Next came Asuka Langley Sohryu, dressed in her red plug suit. Both pilots looked disheveled, and were in need of a shower, among other things.

The two pilots felt that they did not have to say anything to complain or cry for help, since the two hardly said anything to each other since they were placed in the same cell. Shinji only felt despair, shortly after a brief display of surprise and relief that lit up his face for a moment, as soon as he set his eyes on the red-headed girl. For the rest of those two days, she did not speak to him, and he did not speak to her (except for that one time when Shinji accidentally tripped on her foot, and said a simple "sorry" to Asuka). The only contact they made with each other was eye contact, and even this was brief and fleeting.

Shinji thought about this, and felt the need to look back further, to tell himself is this was real. First of all, he was alive. He was so sure that the soldiers would have killed him. They've killed most of everyone else. Then, as if it was a sudden change of heart, they took prisoners. It did not mean that they would not be harmed though. Shinji was beaten into submission, even though it was not necessary. Shinji had surrendered long ago. He was angry that he was allowed to keep breathing.

When Shinji came back into consciousness, he saw other survivors, perhaps the only ones. He saw Misato. She was still knocked out, and a long thin line of blood dripped down from her lip to her chin, and to the floor. Shinji felt a pang of regret, not only for her, but for himself as well. He started crying when someone introduced their boot to his stomach, and spittle flew from Shinji's mouth as the wind got knocked out of him. Before he slipped back into unconsciousness, he saw more familiar faces: Dr. Akagi, Aoba-san, Ibuki-san, and Hyuga-san. All had looked like they had taken a beating, and Hyuga appeared to have lost his glasses. When he woke up again, he was in a cell with Asuka.

Shinji mind snapped back to reality when a JSSDF soldier pushed him from behind.

"Get in that elevator, you punk kids! We got a real nice surprise for you..." the soldier said with an evil grin on his face.

Maybe if I don't follow their orders, they'll have to kill me. That was Shinji's train of thought at that moment as he refused to budge. He steeled himself for the pain that was surely to be inflicted on him, and it came. The guard punched him viciously in the ribs, and Shinji doubled over. Catching Shinji off guard, the soldier pushed him once more, sending him flying into the elevator, and entered it himself. He pressed an elevator button, and the doors closed. Shinji could feel the high-speed lift jerk several times, indicating that they were now moving.

Shinji sat unceremoniously in a far corner of the elevator, nursing his side and warily eyeing the two accompanying him in there. A few moments later, the guard was standing too close, uncomfortably close, next to Asuka, as he toyed with her hair and started sniffing the shoulder area of her plug suit. Asuka remained the same, with those melancholy eyes, and a frown that seemed to have no emotion attached to it. Shinji looked away, and sat in his corner nursing his side.

The elevator doors opened shortly, and the guard snapped back to attention as a group of more soldiers awaited outside.

"This way," one of them ordered, and the Children were led to a familiar place; the main control room, the site where the original MAGI supercomputers stood (or once stood; they were removed by the guards, as Shinji was able to see later on), as well as the place where they received their orders during missions.

Shinji was able to see more people who were taken as prisoners. In addition to Ritsuko, Makoto, Shigeru, Maya, and Misato, there were several other faces he recognized but failed to know their names, and about fifteen more adult NERV employees. Rei was also alive, dressed in her school uniform, but with small tears and several bloodstains scattered all over the fabric. While everyone looked very miserable, Rei was strangely calm and cool; her face was completely benign of joy, of misery, of any emotion.

Then Shinji saw his father, Gendo Ikari, sitting on a chair across from him. His elbows were propped on each armrest, and his hands were crossed in front of his face, as if he was deep in prayer. Shinji's anger knew no bounds for this man after the way the elder Ikari toyed with him, destroying Shinji's life, and in one case, his friend, Toji. The once quiet, proud man was now a fraction of what he was now. His usually meticulously neat uniform was now dirty and slightly tattered, and a small crack formed in one of the lenses of his dark eyeglasses. Shinji couldn't help but feel redeemed a little bit, for himself, for the others, for Toji...

Toji. Shinji thought he saw him out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head to the side to confirm it. Indeed, it was him, sitting in a wheelchair, missing his left leg and right arm. Their eyes met briefly, and Shinji saw surprise, anger, and relief all at the same time in his eyes. Shinji tore his own eyes away from his, disgusted at himself for what he let happen to his friend.

Behind Toji were more familiar faces; his entire junior high class at school. Shinji's eyes went wide as he identified every single face in that crowd; there was Kensuke, Hikari, and about 20 more of them. Some of them were in casual dress, others in school uniforms he did not recognize. There also seemed to be a boy who looked like he suffered some serious burns; his face was mangled and dark, like a piece of beef jerky. This boy seemed to look intently at Shinji and the other pilots, but Shinji paid no attention to that, as he looked away from him. Perhaps at another time and place, Shinji would be glad to see them, that they did not abandon him after all. But they were forced to be here, and they would probably all die soon.

His neck began to itch. His hand moved up to scratch it, but his fingers felt smooth, cool, stainless steel instead. He remembered now; they placed this collar on him yesterday afternoon. The guard told him to stand up and come forward yesterday, and so he did. They placed the collar on him, shoved him back into the cell, and fed him his lunch, consisting of a bun, a slice of cheese, and some powdered milk. The rest of the day was spent tugging uselessly at the metal device, and scratching the rash that began to form where the metal touched the skin. Asuka, as usual, did nothing, save for slowly eating her meal, which lasted her almost all the way until dinner four hours later, when they were served a meal of beans and rice. Strange.

Shinji began to involuntarily tug at his collar again when a man entered the room in a flourish. Everyone, Shinji included, turned to the man, watching as the soldiers respectfully moved out of his way, even bowing to him as he passed.

He was tall, of a medium build, looked like he was nearing his forties. He wore a stark black standard business suit, complimenting with his grayish-brown, military cut hair.

He entered the large circle of confused prisoners, stepping over them and shaking off the ones who clinged to him nervously as if he were some kind of savior. Reaching the end of the whole NERV technician base, overlooking the vast bottom of the control room, he lifted himself up and sat leisurely on one of the technician's computer desks.

Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed and leaned his hands on his knees.

Shinji took notice of his haggard appearance and his sad, tired eyes.

"Hello, everyone," he finally spoke, his voice deep as a brass drum, a droll tone to it. "Welcome to the Control Room. I am Shirou Shirota. I will be your instructor for the next two days."

Shinji could only stare as the man slid off his perch and stood, dusting off his suit.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance", he said with a tired face. "Let's be friends."

Before he even finished the sentence, all of the captives were murmuring between themselves. One voice silenced them all.

"What is going on, Shirota?" That was the voice of Gendo Ikari, his voice level, but dangerous.

"Please do not interrupt me, former Commander Ikari; I will get to that." A soldier carrying a club slammed Gendo once behind the back with it, making Gendo inhale sharply.

"That means shut the hell up, Ikari!" the soldier said as he threatened to take another swing at him. Gendo immediately turned, staring him in the eye with his complete attention, forcing the soldier to move backwards a little, intimidated by his piercing glare.

"That will be enough, Sudo." Shirota raised a hand.

The enigmatic stranger continued. "You are all here for crimes against humanity. Whether you are innocent or guilty, it will not matter anymore. You are all here now, and that's all that matters."

"You are to participate in an activity that has been approved by the UN that the brains behind this like to call 'The Program.' What does this program involve? It is a simple game of survival. How to survive The Program is another matter."

After a brief, dramatic pause, Shirota resumed.

"In the next hour or so, all of you will be randomly scattered around an empty NERV base-- where there will be lots of space to move around, hide, run, and so on. Why? Because in the Program, you will all kill each other until one person is left. That's how you win."

A large clamor went up in the control room as people began to cry, complain, or verbally reject what was just said to them. Shinji was disturbed by this announcement, but showed no outward emotion other than the one he had been holding since this whole mess began. Looking around, he could see more varied and different emotions than his. Misato had stood up and cried at the injustice of the situation, her eyebrows narrowed and her voice loud and clear.

"You can't do this to us! Almost nobody knew about the real reasons between Third Impact and the Evangelions! This is unfair!"

Shinji also saw that several NERV employees were crying with the female students. Maya appeared to be on the verge of fainting, and Hikari's face was streaked with hot tears.

Asuka harbored the same look on her face that Shinji had. Rei's face showed no emotion whatsoever, which scared Shinji the most. He thought: _Maybe this is just another order for her to follow..._

One person came forward from the crowd of middle school students. It was Toji.

"Who the hell do you think ya are, forcin' us to kill our friends?!? What if we refuse, ya middle-aged asshole?"

Shirota didn't answer. He held out his hand to stop the soldiers from beating Toji to a pulp. "I want to hear what this young man has to say," he ordered them.

Toji continued, rattling his wheelchair in his attempt to get closer to the man, "I'm not participating. Hell no! This is some kinda sick joke, and I won't be any part of it, ya bastard!"

Shirota kept silent in Toji's berating, snapped his fingers to the soldier next to him. Toji went silent as the soldier stood to attention. Shirota lifted an eyebrow and gestured to the soldier_: give me_. The soldier, understanding, handed him a manila folder, which Shirota took and looked through. He looked at Toji, handing the folder back.

"Mr. Toji Suzuhara. Let's stop this. Let's be friends."

Toji glared up at him and retorted, "Friends? Friends?! Yer no friend of mine!" He waved out his hands at the other captives, "These people are my friends, and I'm not gonna help ya kill 'em."

The military stranger stared down at the enraged young cripple for a few moments, and then smiled gently. His eyes did not match his smile, and seemed rather out of place.

"You will have to do this. It's your duty. It is required of you--"

Toji finally erupted, screaming in Shirota's face.

"Fuck you!"

Shirota paused, as if he didn't know what to do. Then he opened his mouth again to console Toji, and- -

"Fuck you! I'm never gonna do this! Ya hear me?! NEVER!"

As Toji ranted and raved, the man stared down at his right hand, clenching and unclenching it. Shinji, watching, couldn't figure out what to make of this spectacle. It actually seemed like Toji was going to be gain the upper hand in the argument.

"Shut up, Mr. Suzuhara," Shirota finally said. The room, which had been full of murmurs full of encouragement for Toji and disdain for Shirota, went totally silent. Shirota himself looked calm and peaceful now, the age-weary look gone from his appearance.

The military man looked up and addressed the literally captive audience.

"I have studied all of your files. I have had things prepared in case of emergencies." He looked down at the confused Toji. "I had hoped never to use them. Yours especially, Mr. Suzuhara."

Shirota pulled a small remote from his pants pocket, and pressed a button.

The screen that filled the front view of the control room lit up, and showed several forms. In the middle was a girl, no older than four or five, and around her, were three well-armed soldiers, their rifles pointed at her.

Shirota waved happily at the image, shocking the whole room. He had been glum and morose the whole introduction, this was the first time they've seen him truly smile while happy. Indeed, his brown eyes did match his smile.

"Hello, little girl! Say hi to your big brother!"

Toji did not say a word as her younger sister screamed, pleading desperately for her life.

"Toji! Please, help me! Toji! Toji!"

Toji gritted his teeth as he venomously spat out curses and threats with a low voice, while he tried to stand up from his wheelchair. Unable to balance himself, Toji fell unceremoniously on his stomach, right in front of Shirota's feet, much to the amusement of the soldiers inside the control room.

Shirota did not seem amused. "Mr. Suzuhara, this is disappointing. Look what you did to yourself. If you participate, I will have them leave your sister alone, and I'll even help you back to your chair… myself. What do you say?" He offered his hand to Toji.

Toji spat on Shirota's boots.

Regret and resignation appeared in Shirota's eyes, almost too brief to notice. He gave Toji a sad grin.

"Just a sick joke, hey?"

Toji couldn't understand, "Whatta… What are ya talkin' about?"

"Sure, think of it like a game. Kid, I hate to do this. I honestly do. Just remember: You brought this on yourself."

He turned to the soldiers and gave them a single command.

"Do it."

Shinji chose not to stare at the impending carnage on the screen, and instead looked down, gritting his teeth, and trying to fight tears that had already fallen on his face. The only thing he heard was the screaming of the audience, the incoherent stammering of Toji, the heartbreaking cries of the little girl, and the staccato pitter-patter of three machine guns going off at the same time, which canceled out all of the other sounds.

Shinji thought it would be safe to look up again, but was proven very wrong. Toji's sister did not even resemble a little girl anymore. Her face— caved in by the impact of the hollow point bullets, the once-white hospital sheets stained crimson. A grey, viscous fluid flowed from the holes punched in the girl's head, he had no idea what that was. His vision swam, and in utter horror, he vomited, along with several others in the control room.

Shinji's eyes watered, his throat searing from the ousted bile. His vision swirled— but he could see Toji in the middle of the room. With a good deal of difficulty, Toji was able to shakily sink back into his wheelchair, and began to roll himself towards Shirota, a mixture of anger and tears searing in his eyes. Letting out a constant stream of unintelligible curses, he used his remaining limbs to launch his body from his chair, hurtling towards the Instructor.

Shirota anticipated the attack, reacted. He grasped Toji by the neckline of his shirt, threw him down violently to the cold floor.

Toji had only begun to rise when Shirota stomped him back down with his meticulously shined boots. Blood oozed from Toji's mouth, nose, and several cuts on the back of his head and forehead sprayed as rubber soles collided with flesh to make a sickening sight. Bloodlust seemed to overcome Shirota's senses, evidenced by his sudden sadistic sneer. He pummeled Toji's head to the floor, making a small puddle of blood form and splash around where Toji's head bounced.

With an exasperated sigh, a sickeningly satisfied look in his eye, Shirota slung Toji's barely conscious form over his shoulder, hobbled over to the edge of the control room, and flung Toji over the ledge. A terrible silence was cut short by a grisly splatter, the sound like a melon splitting into pieces on concrete.

Cries of dismay could be heard throughout the control room, especially from the corner where Shinji's former class stood. Hikari cried out the loudest, she had to be restrained by two of her friends.

Shirota, meanwhile, looked irritated by the noise while he smoothed the wrinkles from his dark suit.

"At least it wasn't too messy..." he muttered to himself, while several guards brandished their guns in front of their captives to silence them.

Once the noise ebbed back down to a minimum— save for Hikari's quiet sobbing, Shirota continued to address his audience.

"As your instructor, I am required to give you certain lessons on life along the way. This is your first lesson today: You either get with the Program… or you die. You cannot refuse your fate. You are to survive or die for the Program. Mr. Suzuhara here died for it, just as his sister did. This is the most important decision of your life, and you will make it right now. You will tell yourself, 'I will survive, or I will die.' It is up to you to decide which will happen. It will be very hard on you, and that is why you must think of it in these terms; that life is a game, and in life, you must secure every advantage possible to succeed in this game. I want you all to do your very best to win."

From the corner of his eye, Shirota noticed one of the students tugging nervously at his collar. It was Kensuke. He appeared dazed and close to panic, as if he didn't realize that he was pulling his metal collar, but was instead trying to wake up from a horrible dream where his best friend was no more.

Shirota waved a finger at him. "No, no, Mr. Aida... I wouldn't do that if I were you. I almost forgot to tell you about your collars. These collars implement a tracking device which allows us to view where you are from this control room. If you try to remove the collar by force, there is a good amount of plastic explosive in there, which should blow your head clean off your shoulders."

Anyone who was still touching their collars from that point on kept their hands to their sides. Shirota smiled inwardly, and continued.

"To keep the game lively, we've added a few more rules to the Program. Every now and then, certain sectors of NERV will be off-limits, and I will refer to them as the 'Forbidden Zones.' If you should walk into a forbidden zone, the explosives in your collar will trigger, and you will die. This forces you to keep moving around the base. Of course, I will make announcements to you every now and then to give you the location of these zones, as well as the names of those who have died."

"The other rule we've added is this: if no one dies in the Program within 24 hours, I will personally trigger everyone's collars, and everybody will die. It's as simple as that."

Several of the soldiers began carrying black backpacks into the control room and setting them down in a pile.

"These are your survival packs," Shirota explained as he motioned towards the pile of backpacks. "Each pack contains a three day supply of rations, a map with which to mark your forbidden zones, and a random weapon with which to protect yourself with. When I call out your name, you will take one of these packs, and you will be escorted out of the control room. After that, you are on your own. You will have fifteen minutes to move away from the control room, and from the other participants. After fifteen minutes have passed, another person will walk out, and this will continue until everybody is gone."

"Oh, and one more thing... As soon as everybody has been released, the Control Room will become a forbidden zone. So, if you come within 100 meters within the Control Room, your collar will explode, and you will die. Additionally, there is no way out of NERV base. If you do somehow find a way out of here, your collar will explode. The only way out is through the Program."

"Ok, let's get started," Shirota said, clapping his hands at a half-hearted attempt to encourage his audience. "We have already randomly selected who will go first." He pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket, and unfolded it.

"And our first participant is... none other than our great leader, the former Commander Gendo Ikari."

"Let's go, Ikari," barked one of the guards as he lifted Gendo from his seat. Gendo elbowed the soldier backwards, who instantly poised himself to attack. The only thing that stopped the soldier was Shirota's implied stare.

Slowly and methodically, Gendo walked towards the pile of survival packs, chose the top one, pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose as he gripped the pack, and walked out of the control room with a defiant swagger.

Fifteen uncomfortable minutes passed, and another name was called.

"Keiko Kuronaga. You are next."

A frightened, timid girl stepped forward from the crowd of students. She took one last glance at Hikari (who gave her a look of reassurance). Keiko seemed to be clutching a piece of paper in her left hand, which she hid quickly in her shorts pocket. She took a backpack from the bottom of the pile, and walked nervously towards the exit. When she disappeared from view, her footsteps pattered away along with her.

"Shigeru Aoba. You are next."

This time, a man wearing a NERV uniform stepped up. He pushed back his long hair, looked around nervously, picked up a backpack. He dashed out of the Control Room as quickly as he could.

"Ryuhei Kamogawa. You are next."

The teenager with the burnt scars on his face and arms walked towards the survival packs. He chose the nearest pack, and marched out of the room. Shinji felt Ryuhei's eyes burning a hole in his skull the whole time this happened, and tried as he could, Shinji could not ignore it, and he felt uneasy. Did this kid have a grudge against him? He remembered the name, but did not recall if Ryuhei ever even talked to him in school. He couldn't even remember his face. He let out a small sigh as he finally left the room.

"Misato Katsuragi. You are next."

Misato, still dressed in her NERV uniform and red jacket, walked forward. The guards eyed her lustily, one soldier even whistled. Misato did not seem to care, her attention entirely placed on Shirota. Her face filled with a seething hate as she yanked a backpack from the pile, storming out of the Control Room. She stopped, turned.

"I will kill you. Mark my words," she said, her eyes narrowed to a darkened pitch. Shirota nodded solemnly, as if accepting the challenge.

"Rei Ayanami. You are next."

A quiet "Yes, sir" was heard from a corner of the room. Rei stood up, grabbed a backpack obediently.

"Ayanami." Shirota called out. Rei stopped in her tracks to turn around, facing him. Shirota's voice was calm, almost compassionate.

"As your instructor and new commander, I expect you to do your best these next few days. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," came the terse reply. Rei marched steadily out of the room. As her footsteps faded away, Shinji couldn't help but think to himself that out of all the exits he's seen recently, Rei's was the most disturbing.

"Shinji Ikari. You are next."

Shinji heard those words echo in his brain, and he realized that his time was now.

But what if I don't want to play his game? A voice inside him said. He can't make me play if I die... It sounded reasonable, and a good idea at that, but whatever was left of Shinji's self-preservation kicked in, which forced him to stand up.

_You don't have to play... They could just kill you, and this won't bother you anymore..._

Shinji fell to his knees, and began to cry pathetically.

"I want to die..." he whimpered to himself, rubbing away tears coursing down his pale cheeks.

Shirota stared tiredly at him, replied, "I know what you want. You will not get it."

He motioned to the soldiers.

They filed in and surrounded Shinji. "Guards," Shirota ordered, "Strap a backpack on Mr. Ikari here and escort him out of the control room. We can't afford to lose any more participants in the Program."

A soldier took a random backpack and roughly slipped the straps over Shinji's shoulders. Two other guards grabbed him by his arms and literally dragged Shinji's body out of the control room.

Shinji's vision was blurred from the crying, but he could see the bright light emanating from the control room as he was dragged into a dark hallway. They would not kill him. He would have to fight, and kill... or he could just let himself be killed. That's it... just stay within the perimeter of the control room area and blow himself up, or have someone kill him.

After a good deal of struggling, the soldiers tossed Shinji out just a few feet from where the perimeter ends.

"Good luck, boy!" one of the soldiers mockingly said as they walked back into the control room, laughing.

Shinji did not move a muscle after that. He stared into the florescent lights above him, waiting for someone to put him out of his misery, until –

"God, I knew you'd be stupid enough to pull something like this!"

It was Misato.

* * *

"Is the contingency plan in place?"

"Aye, sir. Collars are on, and tracking everyone, including the one you told us to keep an eye on."

"Good. It is imperative he survives as long as possible."

"Pardon me for asking, sir, but why him?"

"It is not your place to ask questions... Continue monitoring. I want to know of the moment the first participant dies."

"Aye, sir."

* * *

_40 Participants Remaining…  
_

* * *

**END OF PROLOGUE**

In the next installment of The Program, the game begins as friendships fail, rivalries are formed, and the first casualties of the Program turn up. Please review.

* * *

**AUTHORS' NOTES:**

**Kenshiro _(revised)_:** Hi everyone, thanks for reading. It has been quite the last month for this story. After much brain-wracking, this story is most definitely on the right track, but for our past readers, I will have to clarify a few things:

First of all, there is a valid reason for all the gratuitous violence, and don't be so naïve as to come to the conclusion that the Program is simply a Holocaust on a smaller scale. Evangelion is known for its plentiful enigmas, and we as Eva fiction writers will follow this example.

Secondly, the plot thread in question has been modified greatly in order to coincide with the Evangelion universe, as well as for keeping within the realm of reality. The old plots were far-fetched and allowed OOC-ness in certain characters. With that in mind, anything you have thought of about the story may be invalid.

Thanks for reading.

**Bad Ronald:** Yo. Just for the record, this was wholly my idea, and Kenshiro deserves no recognition. No, I'm just kidding, Kenshiro was really kind enough to set aside his projects to help me brainstorm on the story, and eventually pitch in and co-write it with me. Thanks, man. I owe you one, and then some.

You'll notice that, rather than editing and replacing the chapters, I decided to do away with the whole thing and just set up a new fic. This is because I want to give it a fresh start.

I hope you'll enjoy reading this story, it's too badassed not to. See you next chapter.


	2. First Chapter: Corrupted Souls

Welcome to the first chapter (technically, the second, if you count the prologue) of **The Program**, a work of Evangelion fan fiction by Bad Ronald and Kenshiro Mitsui –san. The making of this chapter was not without problems, and after a much disliked earlier version, we decided to look back at the beginning of the story itself, and correct elements of it to remedy the things you, the readers, found wrong or excessive. If you've read the prologue a long time ago, and skipped ahead to this new chapter, I recommend you go back and re-read a bit of it before reading any further. Without any further ado, here is the revised (hopefully for the first and last time) version of Chapter 1. Enjoy.

* * *

_40 participants remaining…_

* * *

It reminded Kensuke of a pre-Second Impact computer game. He'd gotten an illegal copy of it from the internet. Making his way through endless hallways and corridors, just waiting for some zombie or demon to attack him, then he'd have to blast his way through with a machine gun. Here he was: making his way through endless hallways and corridors, waiting for an ambush from an attacker, and holding what would appear to be a long, silver dessert box with a similarly long handle to the untrained eye. Kensuke, the military freak, knew it to be an Ingram Mac-10; probably not a real Ingram model, but some Czechoslovakian-built model. He knew that the real company went out of business many years ago. Any original Ingram model that could be found after Second Impact would be very expensive, and— 

No, Kensuke couldn't shake the fear and doubt from his mind, as much as he liked to rattle off stats inside his head under normal circumstances. This wasn't a game, though that was what that Shirota guy liked to call it. These were real people who would be shooting at him, with real bullets, and he would have to shoot back as well. Oh, what Kensuke would've given to go back to his much simpler and less life-threatening war games. He would've been camping out in the woods, toting his bb gun modeled to look like a real M-16. He would've taken a few potshots at the massive army of trees surrounding him, and maybe at a few small animals. Or maybe not. He remembered when he had shot and killed a small bird with a BB once. Shame to admit, but he cried.

And now, Kensuke was almost on the verge of tears, and maybe soiling his underpants. The unfairness of it all! What did I do wrong that I would have to take place in this so-called Program? I wasn't even an Eva pilot! They never gave me the chance! And to top it all off, I was picked last to get out; there might be people already itching to off me! They've already got Toji- -

Toji. He was not able to let it really register with his head until that moment. The image of a broken body lying awkwardly on the very bottom of the Control Room attacked Kensuke's head, and he stopped for a moment to remember his fallen friend. His best friend. They had been together ever since they were placed in the same class in the beginning of middle school. A single tear managed to fight its way through and roll down Kensuke's cheek, before being extinguished by the back of his free hand.

He started running. Everything became a blur, and the only sounds he could hear were the slapping of synthetic rubber soles on cold linoleum, and the metallic rattle the Ingram made in his hand while he ran.

Kensuke hit something soft, and he felt his body hit the floor very hard, dropping his gun and survival pack. He rubbed his back, and looked to see what kind of obstacle he hit.

"Ayanami!" he exclaimed, with a notable sign of relief in his shaky voice. "I'm glad I ran into- -"

Then he remembered; the "order" Shirota gave her. The curt "Yes, sir" that came afterwards. The eerily calm exit.

Kensuke unconsciously backed away from Rei, who was already up and dusting her school uniform off.

"Get back!" Kensuke pointed his gun towards Rei unconvincingly. His hand shook unsteadily with the Ingram in his hand making a rattling noise.

"I apologize, but I do not come here to kill you, Aida." Her voice, though it sounded the same, was unnervingly calm to Kensuke's ears. He snapped the safety off.

"I'm warning you; I'll shoot!" he replied, his voice cracking.

Rei calmly placed her backpack on the floor, put her arms up. "Please do not kill me, I choose not to participate in the Program." Again, the calm voice that annoyed Kensuke seconds ago.

"You sound too calm for your own good."

"I find that being calm in a situation like this will ensure my survival. It is no use to panic for fear of death."

That made a lot of sense. Suddenly, Ayanami's composed behavior and annoyingly tranquil voice made her look like an angel of some sort. Kensuke put his gun down.

"Jeez, I'm- - I'm sorry for that. I'm just so paranoid, and I didn't realize that I would have friends here," Kensuke stammered. He gave Rei his best determined look, and tried to control his wavering voice. "Look, I know we never talked much in school, but we have to try our best to survive. We should stick together, and look for more people who aren't willing to fight. All right?"

Rei simply nodded.

Kensuke had never felt so much relief in his life. He had allies. He didn't have to go through the Program Rambo-style. His friends would help each other escape this place.

"Follow me," Kensuke said, and he turned around, walking cautiously in the other direction.

"Where are we going, Aida?"

"To find a place to stay. We need to hide out somewhere for the night." Kensuke stopped, turned around to face Rei.

"You should know this place well, Ayanami. Do you know of any places here that most people wouldn't know about?"

Rei stared blankly in space as she pondered the question. There was only one place she could think about; one that most people would rather not see- -

"Yes."

"That's great! Can you take us there?"

Rei replied, her voice slightly hesitant. "I'm... not sure you will want to see this, Aida."

"Is... is it d-dangerous?"

"No... no, it isn't."

"Then I suppose it's ok..." Kensuke muttered after thinking it over for a moment.

"Very well." Rei took the lead, and Kensuke followed, the gun rattling in his hands briefly before he gripped the steel frame tighter.

Rei trudged on quietly, but her subdued demeanor belied the turmoil within her. Their destination was the least pressing matter in her mind right now. What terrified her now was the lack of direction her life has taken; essentially, she was without purpose. The newfound sense of freedom worried Rei Ayanami... the only thing she was more frightened of - -

- - was the man named Gendo Ikari.

* * *

**The Program**

_An Evangelion fan fiction_

_based on the novel Battle Royale_

_by Koushun Takami_

_And the movie directed by Kinji Fukasaku_

_Written by:_

_Bad Ronald_

_Kenshiro Mitsui –san_

**Chapter 1: Corrupted Souls  
**

* * *

Misato's facial expression stuck somewhere between pity and disgust as she glanced back at Shinji. They had been zooming through familiar and unfamiliar hallways, stairwells, and rooms for what had seemed like a couple of hours already, and Shinji' demeanor managed to stay the same: depressed, downtrodden, constantly dragging his feet wherever they went. Misato was surprised Shinji had the strength (or the balls) to tag along with her into the unknown dangers that awaited them inside NERV. She knew that it would be merely wishful thinking that no one would participate in the Program. The truth was that some people were weak; they'd do whatever it took to save themselves, even if it meant taking away civilian lives. Hopefully she'd find people willing to fight against this injustice. 

But Misato's priority right now was to ensure she and this quivering sack of flesh she had to tug along like a toddler survived long enough to enact some sort of plan for rebellion. Or, perhaps it was more than that. When Misato first spotted Shinji as he was hauled out of the control room by soldiers, she saw months of errors on her part. She was Shinji's guardian for many months... and by the looks of it, she screwed up royally. Ah, I was never the stuff mothers are made of. I tried, but the kid's too damned impossible to get through!

But she couldn't help but feel guilty.

"God, I knew you'd be stupid enough to pull something like this!" Misato exclaimed when she first approached him just outside the control room. She was waiting for him, expecting this exact situation to happen. So she hid himself inside a small maintenance room just across the doorway leading to the control room. She didn't have to wait too long. After Misato walked out, Rei was next. She didn't dare approach the pilot. She looked too calm in a situation like this, almost implying that she was cold-blooded.

"Leave me alone..." Shinji whispered after Misato offered him her hand. "Just let me die."

"What the hell's wrong with you? You know this is wrong! None of us should have to die like this, even a crybaby like you!" This time, Misato forcibly placed Shinji's hand into hers and clenched it tight.

"Save yourself..." was Shinji's sole reply as he tried to wrench his hand free from Misato's.

Misato would not have any of it. "Zip it and get the hell up!" She tried to pull Shinji to his feet, but he only made a half-assed attempt to stand up. Misato walked him at a brisk pace, Shinji being half-dragged behind her.

"Right now, my responsibility is to save you, or anyone else here. A child throwing a tantrum won't stop me now. You still want to die, you can die later."

As an afterthought, Misato rummaged through her survival pack for her weapon, grasped it, pulled it out. In her hand was a bowie knife, a rather large one, like the one she's seen in those old pre-Second Impact western movies from America. She remembered seeing one in college with Kaji, when they went to the movies on a date one night. For a passing moment, Misato remembered that she and Kaji never really saw much of the movie...

Stop it. Misato pushed the thought back in her head, tried to figure out a safe place to stay for the night, while praying not to run into anybody crazy enough to be playing the game tonight.

"I'm afraid we'll have to take a risk tonight, Shinji," Misato said. "We'll have to take the elevator. It's not the safest way because others might be taking it too, but the faster we get to a safe spot, the longer we'll survive."

"Something bad happened within the government. I overheard it from a couple of the soldiers while I was still in my cell. They were intending to kill us. They were going to take the Evas, Adam, the MAGI— everything."

"But they received an order to stop. I've no idea why they'd keep us alive, just to have us kill each other by our own hands. It's sadistic. It wouldn't make sense if all this was just for fun... There's got to be some kind of valid reason. I just don't know what that reason would be! But we're going to find out, before this kills both of us and everyone else in here."

Misato turned around to look at Shinji, sighed in frustration. She might as well have been talking to a brick wall, or Rei.

The two turned at a corner and proceeded to head towards the cargo elevators used by maintenance to transport things too large or too heavy to carry inside the regular lifts.

It happened too fast. Misato felt Shinji's hand jerk free from hers. Before she could turn around, she was violently knocked off her feet, the knife she was holding in her other hand flying to the side.

The taste of blood overwhelmed Misato's senses. She shook her head to clear the clouds in her vision so she could see the attacker. It was Kazuya Ochiai; a NERV technician who used to work in the Control Room. He was always a quiet man, very polite. She remembered having coffee with him at one point during break time, and they had a nice, but brief conversation about a television show they both saw the other night.

That was during more peaceful times. Kazuya's agreeable facial expressions were replaced by a dangerous look in his eye, and a deranged smile on his lips. In his right hand, he held a very sharp ice pick, his provided weapon.

Misato quickly scanned the room for her weapon. She scrambled for her knife as soon as she caught sight of it. Kazuya reacted instantly, sidestepping behind her and brutally kicking her legs out from under her. A sharp jolt of pain ran through her as she was slammed to the floor with another boot to her backside.

Shinji stared on as they fought, clutching his bag tightly. Why did this happen? Why can't I do anything? I'm useless! Misato will die, and it's because of me, because she wanted to protect me!

He realized that something hard was pressing against his ribs, it was inside the bag. He frantically zipped it open, reached inside, gripped something sturdy, and took it out. A gun! They gave me a gun! He dropped the bag in shock, staring at the gun.

Misato coughed blood as she rolled over and looked defiantly up at Kazuya. He swung his ice pick, careening towards her ribs. Misato arched her back, it wasn't much, but it was all she could do at the time. She felt her ribs threaten to cave in as the ice pick slammed into her, but she didn't feel anything tear except the fabric of her jacket; the wooden handle of the ice pick had hit her on the ribs while the pointed edge tore through her jacket. She rolled to the side, pinned the handle down with Kazuya's hand behind her back.

Shinji pointed the gun at the insane assailant, now using his feet in an attempt to stomp Misato into the ground. His hand shook as the cold metallic feel of the firearm overwhelmed him. I can't believe I'm doing this… I'm going to shoot a man! His aim wavered… he didn't want to shoot Misato. If I shoot Misato, I'll do more harm than help. Why am I even trying? I don't want to kill anybody! He gritted his teeth and clutched the gun tightly, staring at the man. He glanced at Misato, bruised and beaten, but had the man's weapon under her, the man yelling and screaming...

Enough! He aimed the gun and resolved to help.

Kazuya roared in fury, backhanded Misato off his flattened ice pick, snatching it away as Misato doubled over. Misato could feel one of her teeth come loose from the blow. Her vision stopped spinning, she found herself lying on the floor, face first. A trickle of blood fell from her chin to the floor as she picked herself up. Misato moved her head towards Shinji's direction, surprised to see him pointing a pistol (A pistol, where did that come from?!) at the attacker. She quickly turned to look at Kazuya, who just noticed Shinji and the gun. A relieved expression crossed his face as he stepped towards Shinji. Misato realized the guy wanted the gun, would even kill Shinji to get it. Every goddam bone in her body was hurting, but the threat of Shinji being harmed forced Misato to push the hurt into the back of her head.

The barrel of the gun wavered uncontrollably as Shinji's hands shook like a leaf. He was so focused on the gun that he almost did not notice his target walking towards him with a glint in his eye. His finger tightened on the trigger. Could he even do it? This was a man, and his life was going to be taken because of him. He may have even been a good man, with a family, and he was going to kill this man...

...I want to die... but I don't want anyone else to die along with me!

Misato ignored the blood seeping through her nose and mouth as she gripped the knife on the floor and started charging towards Kazuya, who was so close to Shinji that he could have snatched his weapon in a heartbeat.

Shinji pulled the trigger. He couldn't help it. The thought of Misato being brutally murdered after he died had become unbearable to him, fueled his resolve.

Nothing happened.

He couldn't even press the trigger down; it was too strong, defying him. He whimpered at the man's gleeful expression, dropped the gun, falling to his knees, expecting the ice pick to make its way through his brain.

I knew it. I'm no good. I can't even shoot a gun to help Misato.

"Back off!"

Misato slammed into Kazuya, knocking the wind out of him. They both crashed into the floor, and Kazuya dropped his ice pick. He tried to grope for it as it slid away, but could only howl in agony as Misato jammed the knife deep into his arm, all the way down to the hilt. Seething, he kicked her away, quickly got up, stomped down on her stomach. The pain that encompassed Misato's entire body was unbelievable; she felt bile surging from her stomach to her throat. Kazuya grabbed the hilt of the knife, groaning as he yanked it out of his arm. Both he and Misato were splattered with red, the blood that coursed from his arm dripped cruelly down onto Misato. Kazuya laughed as Misato turned her head to the side and spewed bile. He raised the pick high in the air, angling it to drive down into her neck.

Kazuya could barely comprehend what happened next as he gasped in pain, dropping the knife after Misato shot her foot into his crotch. She looked up from the puddle of bile and saw Shinji, whimpering in fear in a curled up position... and the gun. She recognized it quickly— a SIG P228. Crawling quickly towards Shinji, she grasped the handle as soon as she could reach it.

Misato looked back, saw Kazuya huffing and puffing, charging her like an injured boar. She leveled the SIG at his forehead, snapped off the safety, pulled the trigger three times in quick succession. Kazuya's right eye popped into oblivion, his left cheekbone caved in, and then red and gray matter ejected out of his ears, his nose crumpling into red.

The former NERV employee fell in a heap with a loud flop, which made Shinji jump slightly. He didn't dare get up from where he was. He didn't want to see the end result of the battle; so he kept his gaze firmly down, shuddering uncontrollably.

Misato shook off the leftover adrenaline in her system, stood up to survey the damage. Kazuya was now very dead, Misato felt a pang of regret for killing her former co-worker. She understood how a situation like this could drive people mad. She tucked the gun in her inside jacket pocket, quickly picked up Kazuya's ice pick and backpack, which she slung over her shoulder with her own survival pack.

"Come on, Shinji, let's go." Misato held out a hand shaking lightly from battle stress.

Shinji did not budge, the same dazed look remained on his face.

The first rule of helping a person in shock is to reassure him. "Shinji, it's okay, you're not dead," she said as calmly as possible.

I wish I was, Shinji wanted to say. Instead, he uttered, "I couldn't help you..."

"Yes, you did—"

"You could have died because of me."

"But I didn't, Shinji—"

"Just leave me here!"

His tear-filled blue eyes affected Misato more than the sight of Kazuya's corpse. They were full of many things: regret, anger, resentment. It induced sympathy in Misato, as well as irritation. She wanted to teach him a lesson at that moment, but she knew there was no time for that. The gunshots surely had attracted more potential attackers on the way. She picked him up by the front of his shirt hastily and proceeded to head towards the elevators.

"Let's go."

* * *

_Ryuhei Kamogawa instinctively curled his body in fear as they beat him, swinging their fists, putting him in his place._

Ryuhei Kamogawa stepped towards her, his face calm and detached. She held a knife, weakly struggling to lift it up. He didn't bother worrying about it.

_He could hear a girl's laughter cascade in his battered ears. He should have stayed away. Why did he even go near her? He didn't know! She seemed so nice._

He brought his beer bottle down on the girl's head, then kicked her in the stomach. She cried out, and across his fire-ravaged face, a distorted smile surfaced. He looked down at her battered form, and then…

_He felt his hair being clenched, and his head yanked up. He was suddenly staring into the glaring eyes of Seto Araya, who scowled at him and slammed his head back into the bank of lockers._

"_You think you can fuck around with my girl? Listen, buddy, hey, you're creeping her out. When you creep her out, you piss me off. You do not wanna piss me off."_

"_He was leering all over me. Get off him."_

_He stepped back, and Ryuhei, sobbing, beaten, humiliated, begging for mercy in his eyes, looked up at her and received a shoe in the face. _

Her head bounced off the wall and she slumped to the floor, whimpering.

"L… Leave her alone, you scrawny asshole!" Someone screamed from behind him, far away.

He did not turn. Instead, he kicked the knife away from her groping hand, brought his shoe down on her outstretched hand.

She shrieked, and running footsteps could be heard behind Ryuhei.

"_Did you sneak a peek? Did you enjoy it? Well, you're not going to enjoy the rest of your year in this place. We're going to make your life a living hell. You jackass, you moron. Come up to me and use a pick-up line, hey? Think you can do that to me?! THINK YOU CAN DO THAT TO ME?!" _

_Her pretty face was contorted with anger, and she lashed out at him again and again, scraping her nails over his face, kicking him in the groin, slamming her heel into his ribs. And he cried and cried, and she laughed._

She cried and cried, and he scowled, his scarred, burnt mouth taut with fury.

"Stop crying," he whispered.

"_Keep crying. No one will hear you. You pathetic scrawny pisser. Kiss the floor. Come on, kiss the fucking floor."_

**_Crack!_** He gasped, bent over and dropped to the ground on top of the battered girl, groaning. He turned and saw that it was Seto Araya, looking desperate, tearful. He raised his baseball bat… Ryuhei saw that the girl was his weakness.

"_You done? We're in the wing, but that don't mean a teacher won't be strolling by."_

"_Yeah, I'm done. Damn idiot. Trash him in a locker or something, will you? Hey! Stick to trying your luck on grade-schoolers, little boy…"_

Ryuhei wasn't stupid. He wouldn't bend to them. He may have done that in the past… but he was different now. Ryuhei grabbed the girl, rolled her towards the direction of the rushing bat. He quickly lifted her up, groaning— a resounding snap was heard. Her spine: smashed. She couldn't even scream in response.

_He always tried to hide, but they always found him. Everywhere he went, they always found him. The girl made good on her promise to make his life miserable. Whenever they found him, they showed no mercy._

Seto opened his shaking mouth, let out a guttural scream of despair. Ryuhei didn't have time for this shit. He tossed the paralyzed girl aside, snatched up her knife. He stabbed upwards, cutting Seto's arm open from the wrist to the bicep. As Seto Araya stepped back quickly, screaming in fear, Ryuhei was on him in a second.

_They did everything possible to make him leave. But he always came back. He had no choice. His grandparents were honorable people, but fickle, and they wouldn't have it when Ryuhei came crying to them to have him transferred. They were worried, of course, so they contacted the authorities, then it turned out the girl's father was the chief of police. She could do anything she wanted. And she did._

Stop screaming! He wanted to beg. He hated the gurgling screams as he stabbed the boy in the chest, again and again. It was like killing a kitten. Blood winked out at him, staining his clothes, and he sustained his frustration as the screams rose higher in pitch. Why was Seto so _weak?_ The knife went in so easily, and he screamed like a girl! Had Ryuhei so pathetic in the past, he had to fear this guy? Back then, did he actually grovel to a weakling like Seto Araya?!

_They did everything to him when they found him. They pulled his pants and underwear down in front of Hitomi Nakagawa, then shoved him onto her as she stared at him, shocked beyond belief. They locked him in the girl's locker room, leaving him to toil there and deal with his claustrophobia overnight, much to the surprise and ire of the female students the next day.They stuffed his locker full to the brim with sex toys and materials, like dildos, anal-beads, and frilled handcuffs. He was never able to live that down with gossiping family members and fellow classmates. They vandalized school property, and then sat back and laughed hysterically as the blame was placed on him. They made him turn right around and run, sick with fear whenever they found him._

Stop screaming! Where are the monsters that I've been scared of when I was here? Where are you? Why are you so fucking weak?

Ryuhei felt the weight of Seto's body slumping down on his shoulder, and pushed him aside in surprise. He's dead! Oh my God, I just killed a defenseless boy in cold blood! Dropping the knife, he dashed over to his survival pack, procured the bottle of water given to him, and proceeded to wash his shaking hands with it.

I'm such a coward, he kept repeating to himself as he lost his grip on the water bottle and the rest of its contents mingled with the washed-off blood on the floor. Ryuhei hurriedly wiped his half-washed hands on his dark pants and slung his backpack over his shoulder. The only action left that he could think of was to run away; and so, he did.

The guilt ate Ryuhei Ogawa up on the inside. He felt even guiltier when he realized he was planning to kill Shinji Ikari and the rest of the Evangelion pilots just before Seto Araya and his girlfriend ran into him.

* * *

Yuki Namai was scared; she had been consistently frightened ever since government agents came to her home in Tokyo-1, carried her away from her father. It was just the two of them. She cried, kicked out wildly, even bit one of the five men in the dark suits, to no avail. Her father stepped into the bedroom, and came rushing out clutching a rifle— the kind you used to hunt deer. He fired one shot, killed one of the men. Blood from the man's exit wound stained Yuki's brown-dyed hair and pink Hello Kitty shirt dark red. But before he could pull the bolt back to fire another bullet, the four remaining agents pulled pistols from holsters hidden under their suit jackets. It was the last thing she remembered before waking up inside a holding cell with one of her old classmates from Tokyo-3, Hisashi Saito. Apparently, Hisashi was also taken forcibly to this place, except that he was at an arcade when they abducted him. Hisashi also left Tokyo-3 because of the constant harassment of the Angel attacks. 

Her troubles did not stop there. Yuki was lost, and to make things more complicated, she was running a rather high fever… and she had the chills now; a telltale sign of perhaps a cold or flu. She felt progressively weaker ever since her capture, would have complained to them about it, if it weren't for Toji's death. They might have just killed her for complaning. Who needed a sick participant in the program?

Yuki walked aimlessly through cold grey corridors, but finally collapsed to her knees. She was very tired, which made her even more frightened. She was easy prey for whoever would to kill her.

But that's silly. Why would any of us kill each other? We were friends— and we're just kids! M-most of us, anyway. But why would anyone kill a person without cause?

Yuki leaned back against a corner, uncertainty, as well as illness, gnawing at her body physically and mentally. She just wanted to rest... but she also had to find her friends. The class rep would know what to do... she had always admired Hikari, depended on her. She felt lucky just to be in the same class as her.

A long shadow cast itself on the opposite side of the corridor. Yuki's body tensed.

"W-who's there?" she called out. She was surprised, and disgusted, at how weak and petite she sounded. She remembered her weapon, was barely able to procure it from her backpack. A .30 revolver pistol, fully loaded. Yuki could barely lift it up to point at the advancing shadow. She felt her cheeks growing hotter from her fever, her arms shaking from nervousness.

The shadow belonged to a woman. She wore a dark skirt, a blue sleeveless blouse, and a long lab coat. She briefly arranged her short, blond hair before placing her hands up being held up.

"Please, don't shoot me," she pleaded. "I won't hurt you."

"Who are you?!?" Yuki cried out. She tried to lift her gun a little higher to look more intimidating.

"Please, I won't harm you," the stranger continued. "You look like you're hurt; I'll help you. I'm a doctor."

"A... a doctor?" Relief surged through her aching muscles as she weakly dropped her revolver to the side.

Thank God... someone to help me! Yuki smiled as tears of joy fell from her eyes.

"Doctor, please, can you help me? I think I might have the flu or something."

"Let me see." The woman checked Yuki's pulse, felt her temperature on her forehead, all with the utmost care and compassion that a physician could give to her patient. It was something about her that comforted Yuki, and she could breathe a little easier.

"It's definitely the flu," was the good doctor's prognosis. "You need bedrest. Here, I'll carry you. I know a safe spot where you can lie down and take some medicine."

Yuki consented. The woman took her backpack, placed the revolver inside her own, and carried her with both arms for about five minutes to what appeared to be a small nurse's office. There were several beds, a medicine cabinet, and a refrigerator. he doctor set Yuki down on the nearest bed, pulling a blanket over her body.

"Here, you're probably very cold. Stay here until I find some medicine for you." She walked over to the medicine cabinet and began rummaging through it.

After a brief moment of silence, Yuki asked, "What's your name?"

"Ritsuko Akagi."

"Dr. Akagi, I want to- -"

"Please, call me Ritsuko." Her smile brightened the room, and Yuki returned the smile with another.

"I want to thank you, Dr. Aka- - I mean, Dr. Ritsuko."

"No need for formalities. Just 'Ritsuko' is fine." Ritsuko continued to look through the cabinet, until she found a disposable syringe. "What's your name?"

"I'm Yuki. I'm supposed to find more of my friends. We're supposed to meet at—"

Ritsuko took a small glass vial from the refrigerator, shaking it. "Please, rest. You need to keep your strength up. Don't worry, Yuki, I'll be here to help you. Once you get better, I'll help you in finding your friends."

"Will you, really?" Yuki exclaimed. "I'd really appreciate it. One of them's Hikari, she's the class rep in my class. She's really smart, so she would know what to do..." Her voice drifted off, as she felt the combined effects of her fever, and her energy sapping away slowly from chatting away.

Ritsuko removed the cap from the needle, and inserted it into the rubber stopper of the vial, extracting the fluid inside. She walked to Yuki's bedside. "Slow down... you're already exhausted. After you get your strength back, we'll try and find your friends. For now, just lie down. It's safe in here." Ritsuko smiled warmly again.

Yuki nodded.

"Good. Now, I've got to give you this shot. This'll help with the fever, and it will help you sleep. I hope you don't mind shots."

Yuki shook her head. "Good. You might feel a small sting." After rubbing her forearm with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball, she found Yuki's vein, inserted the needle, pressed the plunger on the syringe down.

Ritsuko continued to talk, this time quietly, as if she was conversing with herself. "I don't know what the government's trying to do, but one thing's for sure... you kids shouldn't even be here. For the troubles we've brought upon our children, we adults are the ones who deserve to die. This is the only way I can help you... I'm sorry. Really. But it's better off this way."

Yuki wasn't able to make out most of the words her benefactor said, as the drowsiness began to overwhelm her. The last thing she knew was a warm feeling flowing through her body, slipping into a deep, dark vortex before sleep smothered her.

* * *

Tokyo-3 was the last place Natsumi Chidou wanted to be in. She moved far, far away to avoid the curse that its inhabitants seemed to carry with them in their lives, the same curse that took the lives of her mother and sister. 

Natsumi's mother, a scientist, died just after she was born. She worked for some company called Gehirn. A freak accident, they said. Nothing of her body was recoverable, so all they had for her funeral was this empty casket.

Tried as he could to play the role of his deceased spouse, Natsumi's father sank into depression, and she saw less and less of him as he buried himself in work and liquor bottles. Then, it happened: the first Angel attack on the city. The poor citizens of Tokyo-3 were warned about this many months ago, but it all happened so fast; they were almost caught off guard. Natsumi's family raced to the shelter, but not all of them would make it. Her sister, Miki, died when a flying piece of VTOL aircraft crushed her to the ground.

After the second funeral she'd ever been to in her life, Natsumi knew what to do. She was able to persuade her father to move away; far away. They found an apartment in Singapore. Natsumi went to school there. Her father worked for another company in Singapore, where he was paid rather well. At least they were able to have some form of happiness for a year or so.

Then those men came. They forced their way into her school, into her classroom, they led her away in front of her friends, her boyfriend, and the whole building. Natsumi was too scared to say anything, other than "Where are we going?" None of the strange men replied.

Once she saw all of her old classmates in the control room, Natsumi immediately knew where she was: the place she dreaded most of all. Apparently, the curse caught up with her.

Now, she was trying to outrun it again. But with every step she took, it felt like the very walls and shadows of the Geofront were one step behind her, ready to take advantage of one mistake, one misstep. It was almost ironic the very people she desperately wanted to avoid were the same people she was relying on for help. Hikari passed her a note while they were all still in the control room ("Let's all meet in the Detention Cells," it said). What did she have to lose? It was either that, and die later, or die alone.

Something caught the corner of Natsumi's eye. She stopped, pulled her gun (a Luger) from her pack, and turned around, paranoia gnawing on her mind. She saw only an empty entrance… she could've sworn someone had been there. Natsumi sighed, stuffing the gun back in her pack. This stupid game was killing her, both mentally and physically. It was driving her crazy. The officials of The Program must really know what they're doing, if someone was there, I might have shot them!

"Where are the others?"

God! She instantly grabbed the gun out of her pack and pointed it at the direction of the cold, immaculate voice. It was that same man, the first man that left the control room. He scared her then; he was terrifying now. He was holding his backpack by the strap at his side, staring at her. She withered under his glare, but managed to keep the gun aimed at his face.

He only looked down at her with those cold eyes. She wondered if he was a statue, he didn't even tilt his head; he just stared down at her.

"Have you seen the other children?" he asked.

Natsumi shook her head, almost involuntarily, to the question.

"What about the pilots? Have you seen them?" The stranger's voice, cold and steady, seemed to complement his face; it seemed like it was etched in stone, like those statues in the museums.

Natsumi hands were quaking terribly to the point where she dropped her gun with a resounding clunk as it hit the cold linoleum floor. She dropped to her feet, scrambling desperately to pick her weapon up.

"I will take that as a 'no.'"

To Natsumi's surprise, the man bent over, reached for the German Luger on the floor...

_This is it; I'm going to die..._

...and handed it to her without as much as a blink.

"You may need this in the near future," the stranger uttered, plainly and matter-of-factly, and with a strange gleam in his eyes that suspiciously looked like benevolence... all the more reason for Natsumi to feel even more uncomfortable. Her face was flushed in red.

He turned around, walked away, disappeared in the same manner that he showed up, leaving a very confused (and somewhat blushing) Natsumi Chidou. After staring at the same spot where the stranger disappeared, she snapped back into attention, fixed her bag on her shoulder, and continued to head towards the facility's brig.

Gendo Ikari stopped in the darkness briefly, and stared at his gloved right palm, tracing something in the white leather with his finger.

"She may yet be alive... all is not lost yet, Yui."

He continued traversing through the hallways that he knew all too well with only one goal in his mind: the Instrumentality of Man

* * *

The holding cells were quiet that night, save for the shuffling of feet and the occasional stifled sob. Huddled inside one of the larger open cells were a decent-sized group of girls. 

They were all once classmates, only to be separated by the misfortune of having to live in a city constantly under siege. Perhaps at a different place and time, they would have been all happy to see each other, maybe at a café or a restaurant or a mall. Joyful hugs would be exchanged, and laughter would be plentiful amongst them.

No laughter was heard here tonight, and the only hugs shared between the girls were for comforting each other, to try to lessen the fear of death prevalent in the air, hanging above them like cigarette smoke. Some cried quietly, uncontrollably, while others tried to maintain their composure. One girl tried to hang on to the few, remaining threads of control over the situation, determination wrinkling her brow, as the freckles on her face bent down as she frowned.

Footsteps ominously echoed through the hallway leading to the cell the girls hid in, feeding the collective fear of the group. They all turned silent, as the girls slowly removed a varied assortment of weapons from their packs.

A human figure appeared in the doorway, and seven guns, knives, and other such armaments were brandished threateningly at it.

A young girl's voice cried out in shock. "Guys, don't shoot! It's me!!"

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. "It's ok; it's just Natsumi," someone said.

"How many more are left?" Natsumi asked.

"It was just you and Yuki."

"And she's still not here," one girl noted darkly.

Yuki's friend, Erika, stood up. She was on the verge of crying again, as was evidenced by the transparent streaks of tears on her face. "No, she has to come! We just have to wait a few more minutes."

They waited for ten more minutes before a girl stood up. Her composure was very different from that of most of the other girls; her eyes were free of tears, and determination was visible on her freckled cheeks.

"Girls, we have to start now," Hikari said. "If we wait any longer, we could be in even more danger. So, let's go over this quickly."

Another girl, attractive, with flowing dark hair and an equally dark school uniform, unlike Hikari's, spoke up, trying to replicate the strength the former speaker had in her voice.

"What the hell are you up to, class rep?" Meiko Yoshi said. "You better not be trying to trick us!" Five other girls next to her nodded in agreement, as if they were siding with her.

Hikari's eyes narrowed. "It's called 'common sense,' Meiko. If this was a trap, we would all be dead by now. This is about survival."

"Hikari's right." Reika Ueda added. She was a petite girl, with her short hair tied in a ponytail. "We'll all have a better chance of survival if we stick together. Who knows what kind of dangers are out there?"

About half of the group of nine agreed with this, while the other half remained silent.

Only one person remained 'neutral,' and kept the same dejected appearance throughout the makeshift meeting in the holding cell: Asuka Langley Sohryu. Her once beautiful reddish hair was dirty, slatted over her eyes while she sat on a corner, hugging her legs. Her fiery eyes held only a fraction of the intensity they once had. In other words, she looked downright miserable.

Her attitude seemed to survive the near-coma she endured after her defeat to an Angel, and her defeat to Shinji. She was also downright irritating, but even that sounded pathetic, as it lacked the vigor in her voice she once had. Even so, she was still loud, and, if possible, twice as obnoxious.

"Ah, _mein gott, _please..." she said, "I don't see what the hell the point is in all this. We'd all be better off dead right now, because we'll never escape! You girls are just a bunch of damn idiots for thinking otherwise, all of you."

"Hey, shut up!" Reika exclaimed, her face beet-red in anger. "No one asked you for advice here; no one in their right mind would!"

Asuka grinned slyly. "What's wrong? Huh? What's the matter? You gonna hit me? Go ahead. Come on, right here, I bet it would feel real good—"

She was tugged up by her suit collar, Reika snagging her collar with both hands.

"You brain-dead bitch, I'll send you back to your coma!" Reika shook Asuka's body like a rag doll. Asuka responded with a maniacal leer that sent shivers crawling down Reika's spine like drops of ice water. She threw Asuka down to the floor.

"Look, we can't be fighting like this!! We're supposed to be helping each other!!" Hikari's voice was high and agitated.

Hikari's patience for Asuka and the rest of the group had been grating on edge ever since she picked Asuka up from the floor just a few meters outside of the control room. She found her toying inappropriately with the kitchen knife she was given as a weapon, usually pressing lightly on the skin of her wrists with the blade. It took snatching the knife away from Asuka and a lot of squabbling with both her and the group, but Hikari managed to drag the pilot along to the impromptu meeting, much to the dismay of several girls who hated her guts. Even then, what else could Hikari do? She had already seen one of her friends die; she didn't want to experience that again.

Meiko spoke up again. "Hey, if she wants to die so badly, why'd you bring her here, class rep? You should've left her back where she was; she's pathetic and no good!"

Hikari's face turned taut with rage. "I will _not_ have you talking to anyone in this room like that! It is our priority to make sure that everyone we can save survives! We don't have time to bicker and fight.

Now listen up, everyone, I'm going to need everyone's cooperation. Some of you might remember on the way to the control room, there was a sign pointing towards the cafeteria. My plan is that we should hide, take shelter in the kitchens. There should be only a few entrances to the kitchens that can be monitored and watched, and food shouldn't be a problem. We can all hide in there until we can figure out a way to escape the Geofront."

A stubborn little _hmph!_ emitted from Asuka's corner.

"And what about her?" Meiko argued, pointing towards Asuka. "If this retarded plan works, then she could get us into some serious shit."

Hikari sighed. "Fine. Asuka will be my responsibility. From now on, you're either with us, or not. We're moving now." She took her weapon, a .22 caliber pistol, and tucked it into her school uniform.

As Hikari was stepping out the door, Meiko called out again. "We'll follow you now, Hikari, but keep in mind, okay… I see anything out of the ordinary, I won't have any problem shooting you and that bitch." Meiko took her weapon, a Czechoslovakian CZ75, and did likewise.

Hikari quickly turned around, gritted her teeth, glaring at her.

"You want to try saying that again?" Her sudden intense anger could be felt by everyone in the room, even Asuka. Meiko didn't take the chance— she just kept silent, touching her gun for reassurance.

Hikari lifted her nose at them, turned to Asuka and held out her hand.

She spoke briskly. "Come on, Asuka. Everyone, let's go."

* * *

_36 participants remaining…  
_

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER 1**

**AUTHORS' NOTES:**

**Kenshiro**: I certainly hope that this will be the last time this needs rewriting. If you've read the earlier version of the chapter, you will have noticed that most of the scenes' outcomes have changed radically, and we hope that you liked this version better. The level of violence, however, will remain unchanged, but we will not resort to violence just for the hell of it; it will be justified.

If there's any confusion with the style of writing Ron and I adapted, it was taken from the English translation of the Battle Royale novel. We felt it would be a nice artistic touch if we wrote the story in the same manner.

I would like to take this time to thank the nice people who volunteered to be pre-readers: Alexei, Badges2, Infested Paladin, and our not-quite-a-pre-reader-but-still-very-helpful Xanatose for helping us make a better story. And of course, the readers, who ultimately tell us once it's all done that we still suck. 'Til next chapter...

**Bad Ronald: **Rewrite, revise, rewrite, revise, it's all in the mind. Well, at least this thing came out a lot better than the last one, which was really crappy. I hope this thing is a little bit less crappier than last time. If you have read this far, I am pleasantly surprised. Our story has been garnering negative opinions by the bucket load, and we have acknowledged them and tweaked the story to make more sense. If it doesn't, darn, you need to read between the lines. If you can't, then you need a brick in the head.

We have been working on this thing a lot, trying to shovel a plot-ful of story inside the plot holes, so please excuse all the bumps. Or maybe not, you could enjoy them, I mean, it might make for a really fun ride.


	3. Second Chapter: Time Is A Luxury

Welcome to chapter 2 of **The Program.  
**

* * *

_36 Participants Remaining…_

* * *

There was no sunrise to greet him, but his biological clock told him it was morning. Kensuke nervously shook as he ate the rations provided for him in his survival pack. He didn't get any more than two hours of sleep last night. It was totally useless. Whenever he opened his eyes, he would see the eerie crimson glow of the tank surrounding him and his companion, Rei, and when he closed his eyes, visions of dark silhouettes floating in a sea of red danced in his head. Rei, on the other hand slept somewhat well (only getting a few more hours of sleep than Kensuke), something Kensuke never understood. It smelled in here. It smelled rotten.

This was completely not what he expected of NERV. The premise of piloting the Evangelion was a blinder to Kensuke; he didn't know, and certainly did not want to know anymore about this facility, its true purpose. He was glad to have curbed his curiosity. He felt sick just thinking about asking where that horrid smell came from. At least it was safe, he supposed.

His mind turned to the situation he and his friends were in right now.

What do they want with us? Kensuke thought. Why would the government include a class of junior high students in something that is strictly a NERV matter?

Rei had no answer to this either, or perhaps, refused to answer. The search for the answer peaked Kensuke's curiosity, he was determined to find it, even if it meant—

_No, that's going too far,_ he thought. _I want us to survive, and that's top priority now._

He put away the rest of his food, stood up, and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Rei, we should go. We have to keep movi—"

Rei instantly darted her eyes to the left and held up a finger. Then she narrowed her eyes. The very movement struck fear into Kensuke… for she had just heard someone enter the hallway.

* * *

**The Program**

_An Evangelion fan fiction_

_based on the novel Battle Royale_

_by Koushun Takami_

_And the movie directed by Kinji Fukasaku_

_Written by:_

_Bad Ronald_

_Kenshiro Mitsui-san_

**Chapter 2: Time is a Luxury  
**

* * *

Maya Ibuki woke up, and picked herself up off the floor of the clinic, rubbing a sore spot on the back of her head. She must have fallen, she deduced, and began to wonder what just happened to her. She surveyed her surroundings.

It was one of the few medical clinics scattered around the facility. They were reasonably stocked for minor emergencies; for serious injuries, a patient would be taken to the hospital above ground. There were several medicine cabinets with the usual supply of painkillers, analgesics, and other such necessities, as well as a few cots for employees who just needed to lay down- -

And everything came back to her the second she laid eyes on the lone body resting on one of the cots. She saw the same girl last night, seemingly resting peacefully. Only when Maya touched the body was when she realized the girl was cold to the touch. She was now a corpse. Maya stumbled backwards in shock and slipped on something after that realization, and that was all she remembered.

It was like a bad traffic accident; Maya did not want to look, but it couldn't be helped. She looked at the body again. Rigor mortis had long since taken over the body, and she had a pale blue pallor in her skin as well. Maya sat down on the bed next to the corpse, not knowing what to think of this. Her stomach turned.

Was she sick already? It's always a possibility. Could she have been killed? No... No, that can't be. Why would anybody kill an innocent child in such a manner? Was she even killed? There were no signs of any struggle, nor were there cuts or bruises on the girl's body. Nobody would seriously think of playing this "game," would they?

Maya banished the thought from her head, and looked down at her feet. There was an empty vial in front of her toes. _Must be what I slipped on,_ she thought. She bent over to pick it up, and read the label:

**Pentobarbital Sodium**

**500mg vial**

She wasn't familiar with the medical term, so Maya simply shook her head and walked towards the nearest trash can to dispose of it. As she looked into the waste bin, she saw more empty vials; all with the same label as the one she just threw away.

The thought quickly dawned on Maya... but she dismissed it. It wasn't possible. The girl wouldn't know how to use a syringe, and who would help her do such a thing, anyways?

_I should go,_ she concluded. No use staying here. Besides, every minute she spent dawdling around meant that she was that much farther from where Doctor Ritsuko Akagi was. Sempai would know what to do.

* * *

"…"

"Quiet."

"Sorry." Kensuke shivered so terribly the Ingram that he held in his hand made a loud rattling sound. Kensuke held the gun closer to his chest to dampen the noise.

Rei and Kensuke positioned themselves on opposite sides of the doorway that led into the Chamber of Guf. Kensuke was the only one carrying a piece. Rei's provided "weapon" was a moderately good length of a thin, strong wire, possibly to be used to strangle someone. Under these circumstances, it might well be useless, but Rei held the fiber wire in one hand nonetheless.

"Psst… Ayanami," Kensuke whispered. "You sure you heard someone coming?"

Rei simply nodded, and stayed silent, her eyes narrowed, her mouth a thin line of concentration. She seems awfully tense, Kensuke thought. _If it's even possible, she might even be more scared than I am!_

Footsteps from afar broke Kensuke's thoughts, and his hand involuntarily gripped harder on the sub-machine gun's handle. He looked over to Rei, and saw that she was looking at him as well with her piercing eyes. Kensuke realized that Rei wasn't even scared. The footsteps became louder. They had to do something.

Ok, at the count of three, Kensuke thought. Looking straight at Rei, he began to nod slowly, three times.

One.

Rei began to wind the wire around both her hands, stretching it taut.

Two.

The footsteps were clearly audible. The intruder couldn't be any more than a few feet away.

Three.

"F-freeze!"

The end of the barrel stopped a few inches in front of a taller man's forehead. Slowly and deliberately, the man took a finger and placed it on top of the barrel, pushing it down and revealing his face.

"Don't worry, children, I won't hurt you."

It was Kozo Fuyutsuki, second-in-command of NERV.

Kensuke knew this, for he had seen the wizened old face before as he scanned through his dad's files on his computer, looking for interesting tidbits about NERV. However, this did nothing to alleviate his anxiety. He pulled his gun away from the man's finger and pointed it at his chest.

"What the hell do you want from us?" he cried, his voice trembling.

Fuyutsuki placed his hands up in the air.

"I don't want to fight. I have no weapons in front of you. I just need to talk to Ayanami."

"N-no! Get out of here before—"

"We are in no danger, Aida; he may talk." Rei appeared from behind the doorway, the wire between her fingers hanging limp.

Kensuke looked at Rei, then to Fuyutsuki, then back to Rei again. Slowly, deliberately, Kensuke lowered the gun, keeping his finger on the trigger.

Fuyutsuki let out a small sigh.

"Thank you, Ayanami. As I said, I needed to talk to you—"

"If it requires keeping away from Commander Ikari, I understand."

The response had Fuyutsuki reeling back for a second. "Strange. I would think that— well, I thought you still…"

"No, Sub-Commander Fuyutsuki."

How unlike her. Strange. "I suppose that's all that needs to be said. You must protect yourself at all times. That is where you must help, Kensuke Aida."

"Wait; how do you know my name?"

Fuyutsuki chuckled a bit before answering Kensuke's question. "I know yours and most of the other student's names in this building, because we chose you and those other children deliberately. You were all to be potential pilots for the Evangelion program. It was out of convenience that we placed you in the same class of the same school."

It was now Kensuke's turn to be caught off guard.

"I shouldn't be telling you that, but I suppose there's no need for secrecy anymore, is there? However, it seems pointless that the other children are here; there's utterly no point to it. There must be something more, something that Shirota is not telling us. In any case, I want both of you to be on guard, especially you, Ayanami."

"Yes, sir."

"It would be best if you left this place immediately. I could almost guarantee that he would come here soon."

With that, Sub-Commander Fuyutsuki turned around, walked away, eventually disappearing into the darkness. Kensuke merely stood where was, staring at the dark, until—

"Aida. We must leave." Rei handed Kensuke his backpack, and walked out of the Chamber of Guf.

_A pilot. I might have been a pilot. It could have been me in Eva-03…_

_Forget it. There is no more Eva._

"Ayanami, wait up!" Kensuke started running to catch up with Rei, who was already a good distance away from him.

* * *

Shigeru Aoba let out a small sigh as he took a sip of water to drown the taste of the rations they were given. A terrible breakfast, he thought, but there wasn't much else around. He tried to relax a bit, think of his situation, and try to keep clear. Well, he was certainly much calmer than he was a night ago.

Aoba remembered only bits of it; panic made everything else seem blurry in his head. He ran. He ran very hard, running until he could feel his chest caving in. Shigeru finally stopped in some isolated room in who knows what part of NERV, and just collapsed from exhaustion. He fell asleep, not even checking to see if the area was clear before resting.

Aoba's train of thought was clearer now; much clearer. He held his gun, a standard Beretta 92F, in his hands, breathed deeply. Shigeru sat down on a makeshift stool (a wooden box he found in the small room he was currently in), and began to examine his piece, checking the sights and the magazine to ensure that it was working properly. He aimed his handgun at some random hallway—

—only to find two men right in his line of sight. Aoba froze, the two guys did likewise. Shigeru quickly surveyed them and the weapons they carried. Both were former NERV workers, but he had never seen them before. They may have been Eva mechanics before. One of the men, sporting short black hair, clutched a long katana while the other person, with hair rivaling Shigeru's in length, but tied back in a ponytail, carried a Glock G17 in a provided side holster. Silence loomed in the room like fog.

Shigeru shifted his weight uncomfortably in his chair, his grip on his gun tightening. The other long-haired employee subconsciously touched the handle of his pistol. Shigeru quickly stood up, fired off a sloppily aimed shot that hit the floor in front of their feet.

The long-haired man jumped and shrieked the moment the shot rang off, retaliated by shooting flurry of bullets towards Aoba's direction, only to find his target dove behind an upturned metal table on the far side of the room. The two men quickly found cover behind opposite sides of the doorway, and the one with the gun continued firing at the table.

Shigeru's heart raced. There were no nearby obstacles large enough for him to hide behind between his end of the room and their end of the room. His eyes widened with panic, and each metallic clang of a bullet hitting the table started sounding more and more like a death knell meant for him. His breathing grew heavy and rapid, and he dropped his gun momentarily. After a minute, he picked it up again, with a pinch of curiosity behind his furrowed brow.

_They got me cornered,_ he thought. _Why haven't they finished me off?_ The answer came to him as another barrage of lead pelted the metal table. Shigeru knew what to do...

He waited for the sound of gunshots to stop, ran towards the nearest cover, a concrete pillar nearly three-fourths across the room, and hid behind it. Shigeru could hear their frantic, whispered voices.

"I…Is he dead?"

"I don't know; I'm just glad we're still breathing!"

"Holy shit, this is bad. I don't know what the hell I'm doing…"

"Dammit, haven't you had basic weapons training?"

"Yeah, that was with targets, not people. I can't do this anymore; I don't even wanna see if he's dead, you go!"

"Okay, all right, look... we've gotta see if the guy's dead or not. We can't afford to waste much more ammo. Just go inside the room, go check it out."

"Screw you, why the hell it has to be me? You got a sword."

"Yeah, that's right, I got a sword, what, I look like a goddam samurai? He's got a gun, you got a gun. I'm gonna chop him down with a sword?"

"I don't wanna die."

"Calm the hell down and just go! I'll cover you, go. Get moving!"

"Oh, you're gonna cover me? You're gonna cover me with that sword?"

"MOVE!"

"Hey. Hey, if I die I'm gonna kill you."

As the reluctant duo inched closer towards the bullet-riddled table, Shigeru moved to another side of the pillar to avoid detection. When the men's backs were facing Shigeru, he saw his chance, and—

"Freeze! Drop your weapons."

The long-haired man taking the lead turned around, only to see his buddy placed in a chokehold from behind, gun held up to his temple. His friend's sword lay on the floor.

The man's impulses took over, and he shakily held his gun, aiming (or trying to) at Shigeru's face. A small, wet trickling sound could be heard, and Shigeru saw that it was coming from the opening of the long-haired man's pant leg; a yellow liquid was steadily dripping from it.

"L-l-let him go, I'll shoot you, I got a gun!" he cried out.

"Noguchi, don't be a fool... drop it," his companion warned.

"I'll shoot you fulla holes, let him go!"

"Noguchi, man, listen to me, damn it! He'll kill us both you don't put your gun down—"

"Cram it! I gotta do this, Watanabe… Hey, I'll save us both."

This was definitely bordering into the land of very, very bad things. Shigeru had to say something to calm this crazy guy down. "Hey, man, it's cool, just drop your weapon, dude, nobody's gonna get shot..."

"Nobody's gonna get shot, my ass! You're the one who shot at us, you long-haired faggot, I'll fix you right up—"

"Noguchi, don't!"

Noguchi pulled the trigger.

The bullet perforated both flesh and bone alike, entering through the sternum, past the heart and part of the left lung—

—And out of the back of Watanabe, Noguchi's friend.

Shigeru acted through his training. He quickly dropped the body, dove to one side, and as he landed and got on one knee, he let out a quick double-tap from his Beretta, aimed at Noguchi. Noguchi barely got a few seconds to realize what he had done, before his chest exploded with pain, quickly followed by a similar feeling blowing out of his forehead, and everything went dark. In his last few seconds of existence, Noguchi never realized that he had been shot dead by Shigeru Aoba.

Shigeru panted heavily as he dropped his pistol, the adrenaline starting to wear off. Holy shit. _I killed them, shit! They're dead, but… but I did what I had to do._ Kill or be killed, right?

Aoba salvaged what he could from the dead men's packs, taking their weapons and water, before he made a hasty exit from that general area. Shigeru hoped to God that not everyone had turned as paranoid as those two poor shmucks just yet as he entered a stairwell and made his way slowly up.

* * *

"Damn it."

Misato Katsuragi sighed with exasperation as she stared at the blanket on the floor where Shinji Ikari once slept.

He ran away. That stupid little kid! And he even forgot his backpack, too! What the hell is he thinking—

Misato stopped her thoughts right there. It was no use trying to understand how that boy works. She knew what she had to do; find him, and never let him out of his sight until this whole fiasco was over.

She stood and picked up their blankets from the floor of the janitor's closet they slept in last night. To be honest, how did I sleep last night, Misato asked herself. I must have been really tired... we were walking for more than three hours before stopping for rest, until I was satisfied that we were relatively safe. I even stayed up a couple more hours later after I thought Shinji had fallen asleep.

_That selfish brat..._

Acting on her intuition, Misato set out into the florescent-lit hallways of an eerily quiet NERV headquarters, when a loud, sudden voice on the intercom startled her—

* * *

"_Hello everyone, and good morning! I trust that you slept well last night!"_

Shirota's voice echoed through the hallways of NERV headquarters, eerily cheerful and upbeat. One of the remaining NERV employees who heard this was Makoto Hyuga. He was startled by the sudden announcement while he was eating one of his rations.

_"It is now seven in the morning, so rise and shine, people, up and at them. It is time for one of two announcements to be made every day for the three days you will be here. If I failed to say it before, I will say it now; you only have three days in the Program. Use this time wisely."_

Three days, Hyuga thought to himself. How are we going to escape within three days?

_"But enough of that. I will now list out the names of your friends and acquaintances that have died last night and early this morning._

_1. Male student Toji Suzuhara_

_2. Male NERV employee Kazuya Ochiai_

_3. Female student Miki Fukada_

_4. Male student Seto Araya_

_5. Female student Yuki Namai_

_6. Male NERV employee Tetsuo Noguchi_

_7. Male NERV employee Ikuto Watanabe_

_Only seven casualties? I am disappointed in all of you. If this lack of action continues, I might increase the number of forbidden zones in a day. Speaking of which, here are the zones for the next twelve hours, which will start at 800 hours."_

Hyuga quickly pulled out the provided map, and wrote down the zone codes that Shirota said over the address system.

_"I understand how it can be a little confusing to mark the forbidden zones on your map, since the map is in three pages, but I want you all to try your best. Please work harder to win today."_

Shirota had a point, Hyuga thought. It was a little difficult marking the zones on his map, and he was grateful that the zones did not start until an hour from now. He saw that the current area he was in would turn into a forbidden zone at 8. Plenty of time, he thought. Keep a clear mind, and be calm, he said to himself. He wouldn't get out alive if he panicked early in this "game."

* * *

Shinobu Itsuki woke up from the most pleasant dream, and considering the situation, Shinobu was fortunate for it. It involved, as it always did, a certain person; an individual Shinobu has always admired. Shinobu had seldom seen him roaming about the hallways, but his presence was always felt as he sat far behind Shinobu in the NERV command center.

Time to come back to reality. Shinobu stood up at the same instant that Shirota began his announcement, and began to stretch, yawning delicately. As Shirota began reading the short list of the deceased, it would seem that the dream Shinobu always had would be even more unattainable than before (not that it wasn't difficult to begin with anyways). Ah, well, a man can dream, couldn't he?

Or perhaps, it could be more than a dream. It was completely possible that Shinobu would run into his man in this hell he once called his workplace. They would forge an alliance, and work together to escape with their lives. Maybe, along the way, they would build a friendship, and if they were still alive, something more…

Shinobu smiled and blushed warmly at the thought of this, almost giggling in joy, and then quickly shook it off. No, it was all too soon. They would have to be friends for a considerable amount of time before his man realized his feelings. Then it would be perfect. Like a fairy tale.

Before he began walking, he unconsciously tapped his chest with his knuckles a few times. He considered himself to be lucky just to be alive. If his luck would carry on towards other certain things, Shinobu may just escape with more than just his life.

* * *

It had been forty-five minutes since Misato heard the announcement, and now she was in an area of NERV she was never quite familiar with. It was easy to get lost in the beehive of sectors and hallways of the facility she once called her workplace.

This sector looked very... untidy, Misato thought. Either the janitors were never doing their job, or this place was forgotten about. The latter situation wasn't so hard to believe; several areas of NERV were simply abandoned, especially after the last Angel. Non-important personnel simply did not come to work, or in some situations, left the city completely. Lucky them.

Signs of dishevelment were abundant. Flickering lights that needed changing. Dusty hallways. Even a stuck automatic door that Misato had to force open. She wanted to turn back, but there was no point. She was already here. Shinji might be hiding somewhere in this part of NERV.

Then, a sign: a red object lying on the floor, at the end of the hallway. Misato walked up to the object, picked it up, and narrowed her eyes.

It was Shinji's S-DAT. Apparently, it was low on batteries; the warning indicator on the LCD had a blinking battery icon in the corner of the screen.

"Shinji. You're here..."

"Major Katsuragi."

She turned quickly, her hand clutching her pack, pulling out her gun while concealing it behind the pack. She looked to the side, then relaxed. It was only a NERV tech worker, Bunrakuken Takamuramaro, who hobbled up to her. He was darkly tanned, very short and stocky, had a comb-over on his balding dark head, and wore small-rimmed glasses. She knew him to be a very friendly man who often tried to make people smile, even during times of distress. He looked a little frazzled around the edges, but looked none the worse for wear.

She stared in disbelief as he nervously put his bag down and bowed to her. Even in times like this, he had to be so formal?

"What a relief! I thought I would have to go through this alone!", he beamed up at her. She narrowed her eyes at his sudden sunny smile, feeling as if something was wrong. His eyes seemed slightly glazed. She tilted her head to take a better look.

"I'm looking for someone, so if you don't mind…" she murmured, looking over his shoulder.

"Is that so? Well, I can help you find him… or her." was the strangely eager reply.

She didn't know how to convey the message to the man that she absolutely did not want him tagging along. Indeed, it seemed that even though he seemed to be helpful, the alarm bells were going off at full alert in Misato's head. Something was absolutely wrong with this man; she just couldn't put her finger on it.

"It's okay. I really have to get going, and I think I'll find him myself." She said, pulling up her pack, ready to walk away.

Bunrakuken looked disheartened, but he walked alongside Misato and said optimistically, "Don't worry, you'll find him! Exactly who is it you're looking for?"

Misato turned to him, realizing that subtle tactics wouldn't work in a situation like this, "Look, I don't really need you with me."

The strange smile on Bunrakuken's face didn't falter, in fact, it seemed to stretch wider. He stepped towards Misato, his hands open, his eyes seemingly friendly. Misato backed away, peering at him, trying to figure out his motives.

"But I can help." He persisted, jiggling his own pack. Then he stopped, his smile gone. His mouth was a perfect little 'o' as he stared at the gun in Misato's hand.

"So… you have a gun," he confirmed, prompting Misato to look down at the pistol in her hand. Then he slowly took his gaze from the gun and stared up at her with those strange glazed eyes, grinning like a shark.

* * *

_34 Participants Remaining…  
_

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER 2**

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Ronald _(revised)_:** Merry Christmas! I hope you had as much fun reading this chapter as I had as much fun making it… I'll clear a few things up. Keep in mind that we have some characters acknowledging what you readers are wondering, such as why school kids are in a situation that should be NERV business and the like. We put this there to show you that these questions have not passed us by, and that we have covered (Or at least tried our best to) all the bases, which are belong to us.

_-Cough, wince-_

Anyway… I wanted to let you guys know that the weird character design for Bunrakuken Takamuramaro (Even his name kicks ass) is based on my Computer Class B Teacher in my sophomore year. Well, sure, the guy gave me a D for my final grade, but at least he was cool about it.

Well, enough from me, take it away, Kenshiro!

**Kenshiro:** Happy Holidays from Ronald, me, and 11-41 Studios. We hope you've enjoyed this chapter. We certainly had fun in creating and writing some of the characters in this story.

Pentobarbital sodium is a barbiturate used to treat insomnia in humans. In veterinary medicine, it is also used to euthanize cats and dogs. The max dosage for humans is 500mg, so if 5-6 vials were injected into a person… you get the idea. Thank you, Physician's Desk Reference.

Shinobu can be a name for a guy too. When I found out, I was just as surprised as Ron when I told him that particular character's name was going to be Shinobu. Both of us can't help but be reminded of Shinobu Maehara of Love Hina.

Comments and love/hate letters are greatly appreciated. See you next chapter.

Pre-reading thanks this time go out to Cryshalo, and an internet Christmas cookie for Xanatose, who has been kind enough to help us constantly with this stuff.


	4. Third Chapter: Cat Amongst The Pigeons

Welcome to Chapter 3 of **The Program.**

This chapter is dedicated to Zecharia "BloodyBrit" Cloudsley (1988-2004) of the EFO forums.

* * *

_34 participants remaining...  
_

* * *

"You have not seen them, have you?"

The chilling, but all too familiar voice of the former NERV commander echoed behind Kozo Fuyutsuki.

"Ikari," he said, turning around to face Gendo, as they both stood in the hallway leading to the Chamber of Guf, the large tank where the spare dummy plugs used to reside. "I expected you to be here."

"Have you seen the pilots?"

Fuyutsuki shook his head confidently. "I have not seen either Sohryu or Ikari, nor have I seen Ayanami."

Gendo slid his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"I see," he replied.

After many years, Fuyutsuki learned how to read the emotions (or lack of) that Gendo Ikari exhibited. He knew when he was happy, sad, disappointed, what he was thinking of… He knew exactly what Gendo wanted at that moment; he also knew that Gendo could tell he was lying.

Nothing I can do. I shall just play along.

"You're thinking about continuing your plans, aren't you?"

"Of course, Fuyutsuki. Hope is not lost yet."

"I see," Fuyutsuki simply replied.

"If you see any of the pilots, especially Rei, you must keep them with you and find me. You will know where I will be."

Gendo continued to walk towards the Chamber, and disappeared into the darkness. Fuyutsuki continued in the other direction.

* * *

Gendo's chest felt heavy as he stepped inside the Chamber itself, staring at the various body parts floating in the water— Reis' body parts. He thought of Ritsuko, decided that he would have the opportunity to right the wrong she had done to him before his ultimate plan was accomplished.

Something on the floor caught the corner of his eye, he bent down to pick it up. Merely a wrapper— a food wrapper for the rations the JSSDF had supplied them. Indeed, Fuyutsuki had been lying.

Not a problem, he thought. I have plenty of time to find Rei, and I will soon be with you, Yui.

* * *

_I should have killed Ayanami when I saw her,_ Kozo thought to himself as he walked down the hall.

But I didn't. She's just a doll, an experiment by men playing God… but she's also human, despite what she is. She deserves to have a chance to live, like everyone else, and if a miracle happens, everyone in this damned game will be able to keep that chance. But as it stands, we were all given the death penalty.

He stepped inside the high-speed elevator and pushed the button for the doors to close. Once it started moving, he procured his provided weapon— a mirror, from his backpack.

Why a mirror? Certaintly an odd choice. It won't hold its own against anything else. I will have to find another means to defend myself if such means are necessary.

You never know what's out there.

* * *

**The Program**

_An Evangelion fan fiction_

_based on the novel Battle Royale_

_by Koushun Takami_

_And the movie directed by Kinji Fukasaku_

_Written by:_

_Bad Ronald_

_Kenshiro Mitsui-san_

**Chapter 3: Cat amongst the Pigeons  
**

* * *

"So, you have a gun."

"I sure do…" Misato replied cautiously, trying not to avert her eyes away from the creepy grin on Bunrakuken's face. It was hideous, like the look a pedophile might give to a child, it made Misato's stomach turn.

"What do you want with it?" she asked, trying her best to suppress the wariness in her voice.

Bunrakuken grinned even wider, his slightly stained teeth, probably from smoking too much, giving off a malevolent gleam under the humming phosphorescent lights in the hallway.

"I was wondering what I could do to… persuade you to lend me your firearm, Major."

Misato immediately tucked her gun back under her jacket, shifting it away.

Bunrakuken continued, speaking slowly, softly. "Well, Major, you see, I was given a quite… unorthodox object to use to defend myself, and obviously; it just won't do at all. So if I could just, perhaps, borrow your gun-- and I swear I'll return it to you—"

"No," came the terse reply. "Sorry, but you're not getting it."

The smile from Bunrakuken's face quickly faded, and a short, uncomfortable silence followed as Misato glared at him with an appalled look.

"… Very well. I won't hold you up any longer. I do hope you will successfully find who you are looking for." He gave Misato what could pass for a bow, and stood still where he was.

Misato was thrown back by this gesture. She was certainly expecting a little more resistance from him. Just go, she thought. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Just get going and find Shinji and get the hell out of here. She turned around to continue to look for Shinji, when she heard a quick rustling from behind, followed by a comment from Bunrakuken.

"By the way, would you like to see the weapon I was provided?"

Misato turned around to hear a great roaring clap, a ball of fire racing towards her face. She raised her forearm just in time to keep it from scorching her face. The flames clung to her red jacket and began to burn away the upper material, and Misato, panicked, tried to stifle the flames with her other arm. Another small cloud of fire flew towards her, and she instinctively stumbled backwards, accidentally dropping her gun to a corner in the process. She now had her back to a wall, and Bunrakuken closed in methodically, like a lion cornering its prey. In one hand, he held a lighter, and in the other, a blue aerosol spray can.

"At first, I was disappointed. I thought this can of paint would be useless, but then I saw the lighter that accompanied it," Bunrakuken commented as he smiled wider than ever. "You could say that I underestimated its use… But yes, I still want your gun."

Misato was speechless, looking down at her burnt jacket, then up at Bunrakuken Takamuramaro with an enraged, yet bewildered expression on her face. As she stepped backward like a sheep to a slaughter, she looked to be almost… betrayed.

"What are you doing?!" She demanded, stepping forward. "Takamura—"

One flick of the lighter and the nozzle of the blue can sprayed out flammable fluid and the roaring was greater than ever, an immense cloud of fire pinning Misato back onto the wall. Her eyes went wide, and then they tightened in so much determined anger, much of that of a wounded cat.

Bunrakuken merely stared on, puzzled, yet amused. Maybe she wasn't expecting him to go this far.

"Oh, come now, Major, don't tell me you weren't expecting this?" he said, almost jokingly. "They didn't call you the 'Director of Operations' for nothing, you know."

Misato growled angrily in response to his comment. Bunrakuken's leering face suddenly contorted into a sad frown, and the flames jetted out wider than ever, forcing Misato to slide to the right with a very peeved glaring attitude.

"Don't be so angry, Major." Bunrakuken shouted over the flames, almost to the point of panic, his eyes suddenly bulging. "Please! Please don't be so--"

Misato suddenly lashed out, throwing a flashlight at his head with sudden ferocity. It glanced off his brow and Bunrakuken shrieked in pain and surprise as Misato pounced forward, her hands groping for his throat. With one desperate lunge, she screamed with all the rage she could muster.

"I'm gonna kill you, you bastard!"

* * *

The quiet hum of the high-speed elevator was almost soothing to Ritsuko Akagi's nerves, and she let out a small sigh as she enjoyed the brief respite from all tension outside. She was a meticulous woman, and she inventoried the contents of her backpack, as well as the backpack of the late Yuki Namai.

I did the right thing, she told herself.

_Or did I?_

No, it was the right thing. It was the only thing. She was running a high fever. She was in no condition to be moving around. She would have died a much grislier death had I not done what I did. She died peacefully.

Ritsuko grabbed a water bottle from her own backpack and took a sip.

Why are the children here? What threat could they possibly possess against the government? They have nothing to do with NERV, unless…

They knew. About the Marduk Report. All of those kids were selected as potentials. Someone from SEELE must have leaked this information to the government.

But it still doesn't make sense. There are no more Evangelions to pilot. It looks like they're trying to cover all of the bases.

Maybe they're trying to learn something. She frowned. It was something about NERV, and the event she thought was narrowly evaded when the JSSDF invaded the Geofront—

Ritsuko suddenly pulled her hand out of her bag from reaching inside for nothing in particular. Her finger was pricked, bleedings lightly, and she picked up whatever it was that cut her. It was a sickle, the kind you use on the rice paddies.

The answers can wait for now. I've got something to take care of first.

She took something else out of her backpack. It was the revolver Yuki carried. Looking inside Yuki's pack, she found a box of bullets for the gun, and placed that inside her backpack, along with anything else she found useful.

She had a multitude of thoughts swimming through her head, most of them difficult to sort out, but she knew one thing for sure.

Gendo Ikari is going to die.

* * *

Misato was running out of fight in her body. Bunrakuken's docile appearance belied the strength and cunning of a madman, and it threw her off guard. She was exhausted, and her jacket had several dark burn marks.

She had one last card up her sleeve: the Bowie Knife she received in her pack. The challenge lay in getting past Bunrakuken's makeshift flamethrower, getting close enough to hit him. She had to try. She unsheathed the blade and ran towards him, holding the knife in her left hand as if to stab Bunrakuken, and using her right arm to protect her face.

Bunrakuken only laughed as he let out a prolonged burst of fire from the spray can and almost engulfed Misato's upper torso in the cloud of flames.

Pain seared Misato's left hand as she rushed through the fire. The burning was only temporary, and she shoved towards Bunrakuken's body. She caught him off guard; a look of surprise shot upon his face, there was no time for another flame burst.

_I've got you now..._

A sharp jolt of pain shot through Misato's wrist, cruelly twisted by Bunrakuken's outstretched hand. Bunrakuken dropped his spray can, caught Misato by her knife hand, twisting it around forcing her to drop her weapon, then shoving her into a wall.

Misato rubbed her head as she tried to clear her vision from the impact of hitting the back of her head on the wall. She saw two Bunrakukens coming towards her; ready to stab her with the knife he stole. Not more than a few feet away, a shadowy figure rushed towards her assailant from behind. She saw the former NERV worker jerk forwards as if he was struck by something, he fell on top of Misato, unconscious.

Misato's vision stopped swirling, and the figure in front of her came into focus.

"God! I think I really underestimated this thing…"

It was Makoto Hyuga, wearing a rattled, yet relieved, wondrous expression as he stared at the pot lid cover in his hands.

* * *

The back of Ryuhei Kamogawa's head thrummed in scorching pain. He covered his head the second time something hard struck him there. It took him a second to realize he was being attacked, but by that time, he was already on the floor.

"You m-monster! Quit following me or I'll k-kill you!" a shaky female voice shouted at him.

The pain traveled down from his head to his upper back, letting Ryuhei have a chance to clear his mind while his attacker continued to hammer away at him… though the hurting wasn't as bad as he thought it was initially. Was I following someone? I don't think I was. He quickly reached inside his backpack and grabbed his broken liquor bottle, the first thing he was able to get a hold of.

With a primal, throaty growl, Ryuhei easily overpowered his assailant. He tore the weapon out of her hands, tossed it away, tackled her to the floor. With one hand, he held the girl's throat, flipped his broken bottle to grasp it by the neck with the other, brandishing it high in the air, ready to apply the final blow.

"Oh! Please, no! Stop!" the girl screamed.

Ryuhei paused before he could finish her off, staring at the frightened girl's face. The side of his head started to pulse.

* * *

"_Hey. You okay?"_

_Ryuhei wiped his eyes and turned around to face the direction where the kind female voice came from. It was Hitomi. Hitomi Nakagawa. She offered him a water bottle she had purchased from the school store._

"_I thought you might want something to clean your hair, so I bought—"_

_Ryuhei quickly got up from the ground and snatched the water bottle from her hands, startling Hitomi. Facing the other direction, he opened the bottle and proceeded to clean the tomato sauce from his face and hair._

_Both of them stood there silently in the schoolyard, long enough to cause an uncomfortable silence._

"_I'm… sorry if I startled you, Nakagawa. I'll pay you back for that water bottle."_

_Hitomi smiled pleasantly in reply. "It's fine. It wasn't that much money." She began to walk towards Ryuhei._

_This startled him, and he involuntarily stumbled backwards as Hitomi advanced._

"_No, no, it's just that you missed a spot. Let me get it for you." She took out her handkerchief and proceeded to wipe the side of Ryuhei's face._

"_You know, Kamogawa, you clean up pretty nicely," Hitomi said as she fixed his hair with her handkerchief. "You look… nice."_

_Ryuhei blushed slightly._

"_You shouldn't let those two get you down." Hitomi was referring to Seto Araya, and his girlfriend, Miki Fukada. "It's not good for you. There, all clean." She handed her handkerchief to Ryuhei, which Ryuhei handed back._

"_I… I c-can't take this. It's yours—"_

"_It's fine. I've got lots of them. Keep this one."_

_When was the last time I smiled? When was the last time I could smile? I want to smile for her, I can feel it on the corners of my mouth, but it just won't come out._

_I hate what I've become. A sniveling scared coward, devoid of all joy. I don't deserve her friendship._

_Ryuhei backed nervously away from Hitomi._

"_I'm sorry, Nakagawa, but I have to—"_

_The tranquility of the scene was broken by klaxons echoing in the air._

_Hitomi gasped. "Another angel! Come on Kamogawa, we've got to get to the shelter!"_

"_I-I'll meet you later. I got to get my grandparents first. I got to take them along."_

_Hitomi sounded worried. "…Okay. Please be careful. Let's meet up there, okay?" She ran towards the school, where there was a shelter nearby. After looking at Hitomi one last time, Ryuhei ran towards the city, where his grandparents lived._

_It would be the last time in a long time that Ryuhei would see Hitomi Nakagawa.  
_

* * *

Ryuhei's broken bottle dropped harmlessly onto the floor, and he released the girl from his grip. The pulsing in his head ebbed down to a mere throbbing. He collapsed to the ground, and sank his scarred face into his hands.

"Oh, God. Hitomi, I'm awful sorry," he cried over and over again.

Hitomi scrambled backwards until she hit a wall, not knowing what to think or say, or comprehending who her attacker actually was. It slowly sank in as Hitomi stared past the scar tissue on his face, and looked at his tear-filled eyes, which were staring right back at hers with remorse and regret.

Hitomi's vision blurred as tears of her own started forming.

"K-Kamogawa. Ryuhei…"

* * *

Takumi looked down at the crumpled toilet paper path, leading all the way up to a corner of the hallway. Strange, he thought. He shrugged and shifted his pack as he brandished his butcher knife, walking to the corner, holding it up. He looked around the corner; saw an empty hallway with a toilet roll. He put down his knife and stared curiously at the small toilet roll, which was propped up next to an open doorway.

He walked inside the room and rubbed his eyes... a rec room? It had old-fashioned oak tables and two leather couches, and then he narrowed his eyes as he noticed something peculiar. Walking closer, he saw a wooden chair was propped up backwards on the corner of the table, one of the legs missing.

It must've been like that for quite a while. Maybe even a joke that an employee planned on another? It would've been something he'd do to one of his friends.

His friends.

When he was taken to this place, it was from his group of friends while they were at a popular video game store, browsing the many selections and even taking some out to steal out from under the sleeping cashier. When they took him away, it was quick, but it hadn't gotten unnoticed by one of his best friends.

"_Takumi! Let him go, you fuckers!"_

_As he screamed out for the men in black suits to release him, the three others in his posse turned and, seeing the dire situation, started to rush towards them. One of his friends, Kaeda, revealed a switchblade he carried in his jacket pocket and lunged toward the man holding Takumi, who was starting to pull out a gun with his other hand. Before Kaeda's knife could reach its target, his neck exploded, and a hole appeared on the side of it, blood squirting all over—_

Stop.

Thinking about this isn't going to do any good. Right now, the only thing you can do is survive.

Takumi rubbed his eyes, red from holding back tears. He turned around and walked for the door, his head hung low as he scratched the back of his head, sighing.

Swish.

Hmm? He turned around at the sudden new sound.

His bicep was smacked very hard with a resounding _slap!_ by something wooden and he felt his hand seize up suddenly, dropping the big butcher knife. What the hell?! Takumi looked up and only saw a blur that looked like a girl holding the broken wooden chair leg. She swung it on his neck, the bottom of his adam's apple, choking him.

Takumi fell to his knees easily, hacking and coughing, as she loomed over him, holding the end of the chair leg with two hands like a bat. The side of the chair leg smacked onto the bridge of his nose with a mighty clout, slamming over his eye sockets. Takumi howled in pain, the girl reared back and shoved the leg into his open mouth, cutting off his horrified shriek. He gurgled as she pushed the leg forward onto his front teeth like a crowbar, forcing his head further back, looking to the ceiling.

Then she saw her eyes— furious-looking eyes, the left pupil a dark brown color, the right bright green.

Her eyes were so cold.

Hot tears of pain streamed from Takumi's shut eyes as she put more pressure on the top of the wooden leg, shoving it down his throat. With his eyesight wavering, his nostrils flaring, his throat clenching in retaliation to the sudden burning and chafing being forced down into him, he lifted up a weak hand and tried to push the girl's hand off, and she lifted a brow as his gurgling became more frantic, his movements sporadic.

The girl smiled grimly as his death rattle reverberated throughout the room..

* * *

_He shivered, trying to control his withdrawal as he wiped his grimy face with his scarred hands. It had been some time since he had been popping pills to control his erratic twitching, especially that of his left eye. He used to be nonchalant about such things, though, even carefree. But it was hard to be carefree and nonchalant when you were a prisoner of war trapped into a small, dirty jail cell, awaiting your "punishment"._

"_One little piggy…" Someone rasped out into the darkness, the dreaded voice of one of their tormentors sounded out into the cell, laughing._

_Then a constant screaming shocked him to the core, giving him a new meaning of despair._

_Oh, God. It was Sakamochi. The leader of their battalion. They were torturing him, just like they tortured Kamon and Riki. And the way he was screaming, the pitch, the tone; he had broken. And he would die. Every soldier in the cell knew it._

_He turned his head and saw Kitano, sitting next to three of the captured soldiers in their battalion, with a grave look on his face. Kitano stared back at him, and groaned as he lifted his shattered arms with great effort, holding his cuffed calloused hands towards him, begging, pleading._

_No._

_He couldn't. Not until the right moment. Then he would… he would come back. He would come back and save them all._

_The cell door slammed open.  
_

* * *

Shirota awoke with a jolt, kicking aside the intercom mic on the desk, sending it clattering to the floor. He looked around furiously and set his sights on Sudo, who had dropped a large folder on his desk. The soldier bowed hastily and muttered, "Sorry about that, sir" before walking away to watch the progression of the game on the giant monitoring screen of the NERV main control room.

Shirota looked away in disgust, but he had to admit that he was quite thankful for being awakened. It had been the third time that week since he had recalled that…

That troublesome memory.

He clenched his jaw, tightened his fists, trying to put it aside—to clear his mind for more pressing matters. Such as, where was the one they had tagged? Was he still alive? Shirota looked up at the giant monitoring screen and sat up from the desk, peering. Every one of those small screens that accumulated into the big screen were tuned into the view of the multitude of security cameras around NERV, watching the battle unfold in so many points of view.

With a grunt of disgust, he stared as many of the soldiers, sitting or squatting or smoking on the NERV technician desks, traded bets on who would survive the Program; one soldier walking around to each of them while writing down the names of the participants and calling out the increasing price on each of the participants that were popular among the soldiers.

So far, the one Shirota had tagged specifically at the beginning of the Program was number one on the list of predicted survivors.

Slipping his hands behind his back and clasping them at the wrists like an admiral, he smirked as he watched the one participant they had tagged move about in an orderly fashion, the camera dutifully tracking his movements. Shirota had to admire his single-mindedness and his dedication to where he was going. And Shirota had to be thankful for that; he had to be thankful for this one participant. After all, this one was the whole reason the Program existed.

* * *

By following a wide hallway inside NERV HQ, one would find himself in a sleek-looking lounge area with a large glass window overlooking the lake in the Geofront. However, the scene was far from a normal day at work. Outside, the landscape of the Geofront was ravaged and burned by artillery and missile fire from the JSSDF, and most of the buildings lay in ruins due to the bombings.

The destruction on the outside reflected the carnage that went on inside Central Dogma. Inside the lounge, chairs and tables, and the bodies of former personnel were overturned, strewn about, and bullet-ridden. Blood stained everything, from the ceiling to the floor.

The wreckage led to two wide doors, once meant to swing open, now only barricaded by furniture from the inside. Inside the circular windows on each of the doors, there were signs of life, a last bastion for survival within this Program.

It was a group of nine girls from Class 2-A, who kept the NERV cafeteria as their sanctuary until they would have to move again (due to the ever-present threat of Forbidden Zones), and they seemingly chose well in their location. They were able to find the place late at night with little trouble; save for the incessant whining on Asuka's part. When they got there, they found the cafeteria easy to maintain. There was a good supply of food, the place was relatively easy to guard. There were three main entrances, two of which were completely blocked, and one service entrance in the kitchens where supplies were taken to, and it was as comfortable as a place under siege could get. Most of the girls had no trouble sleeping at night, as many of them were exhausted, some using clean sofa and chair cushions from the lounge as bedding (though most were tired enough to sleep with only their packs as a pillow), while the restless individuals and volunteers took turns standing guard at the entrances to make sure they were not surprised in an attack.

By morning, the group of nine was in relatively high spirits. A breakfast was made by two of the more talented girls there, one of them Hikari Horaki. As the de facto leader of the bunch, her group was split in two, with one faction being her friends and admirers, while the other being her critics and enemies. As unfortunate as this rift in her group was, she thought, she couldn't let it break the unity in this band of survivors, because it would be their downfall.

Who is our true enemy? The people outside, or the people in here?

The question made Hikari uneasy as she helped clean up plates and utensils after breakfast was done. During the meal, more tension built up, as another Asuka-related problem arose. A girl in the group named Kirie Mai brought up the topic of Asuka and the danger she brought to the lives in the group, and the antagonistic half of the girls seemed to agree with what she was saying. Of course, what else could Hikari do when her best friend was being slandered?

Despite her best efforts, the bickering continued on, heating up and threatening to become more than just fighting with words. The only girl on the table who seemed dispassionate was the girl who was the basis of all the conflict – Asuka Langley Sohryu.

* * *

The polite knock on the large metal door startled Michi Tatsumoto and Ino Hadame, the two designated for that time period to guard the main entrance to the cafeteria. Both of them pointed their pistols at one of the circular windows and peered through it.

"Who's that?" Michi said caustically.

It was a girl that stared back on the other side of the door. She was a petite teenager who wore eyeglasses and had pageboy-cut hair. Both girls immediately knew who it was.

"What do you want, Aizawa?" Michi said, her tone remaining hostile.

"Please, won't you let me in? I don't want to die out here!" Aizawa pleaded.

"How do you know we can trust you?"

Ino whispered to Michi. "Wait, Michi, it's just Aizawa. I don't think she could do us any harm. Don't you remember how she was in school?"

"That's not the point. The rule's to not let any strangers in without the whole group talking about it, and they're all at that meeting. The way everyone's acting, I don't think it's such a good idea to disturb them."

"Look, I've got an idea. Let's just make sure she's not armed or anything-- it'll be easier to handle her until the others get back."

"Fine, okay." Michi raised her voice again. "Alright, you armed, Aizawa?"

"N-no," her voice trembled, "I'm not carrying anything. I didn't get any weapons to use."

"Prove it! Empty your backpack."

The girl outside took a few steps back, unzipped her pack, and dumped the contents on the floor. There were three water bottles, a few food packs, a map, and a roll of toilet paper.

"You see? The toilet paper in my backpack."

Ino was convinced and satisfied with that. "There now. She's not armed. The random weapon she got was toilet paper."

"...All right," Michi sighed, "Let her in. Keep your gun pointed at her while I open this door. I'm going to search her."

Michi proceeded to unlock the door and remove the several obstructions blocking it. On the other side of the door, Aizawa smiled thankfully to the girls as her hand gripped readily behind her back.

* * *

Asuka sighed, hugging her knees and sitting in a corner of the huge cafeteria just outside the hallway leading into the kitchens, where Hikari and the other girls held counsel. She knew they were talking about her; she didn't even need to ask the girl with a stun gun assigned to "guard" her.

"You're fuckin' staying here 'til they're done in there," the guard groused. The girl was huge; Asuka remembered that she used to play in the basketball team as their center. Asuka had never participated in gym class. Sweaty barbarians fighting over a stupid ball.

This meeting's useless as well, she thought. We're all going to die, regardless of what I do or don't do.

It happened too quickly. The girl guard's throat exploded in a burst of dark red, a sign that her vein had been cut open. The girl tried to scream as the stranger behind her started to slice open her back, pummeling a big butcher blade into her back. The stranger kicked the girl aside, turning on her, chopping the giant blade in her face with her knife, making wet splotchy sounds with geysers of blood splattering on the floor. She continued to slice even as the body fell, squirming in agony, her voice gurgling instead of screaming.

Asuka ripped her eyes away from the display of crimson to look at the assailant. She was no stranger. Right away, Asuka knew who it was. The eyes were a dead giveaway; the left pupil colored dark brown, and the right colored green. The face stared back at Asuka gave her a smile so full of warmth it disturbed her. She never talked to her, but this girl went to class with them.

"Urumi?"

* * *

It was certainly a sight to see. On the floor laid Miyuki Sagisu's body, her neck torn and leaking red, and her back covered with deep bloody grooves. Next to the corpse was Asuka Sorhyu, her eyes wide with fear, and her face and hands covered with gore. A bloodied butcher knife sat near her knees.

Asuka looked up to see five girls staring with shock and horror at her. One face that stood out was her best friend's. Hikari was on the verge of tears.

Asuka stood up, protesting, holding up her bloody hands. "W-wait, what the hell?! It wasn't me! It was - -"

Meiko pulled her CZ75 pistol from her skirt pocket, undid the safety, thrust it into Asuka's face.

"Shut up! You killed her, didn't you?!? You fucking killed her!!"

"No! I didn't!"

"I told you to shut up! Reika, go and get Ino and Michi at the entrance."

Reika Ueda nodded, and ran off to find the two other girls.

Hikari felt confused and scared, not just for her, but for Asuka too.

"Wait, wait, let's look at this rationally. How could Asuka have killed Miyuki this way? If Asuka had tried to attack Miyuki, Asuka would have been knocked out by her stun gun."

A scream was heard from outside, cutting her off— one of the girls ran to check what it was. After a quick moment, she returned with Reika, who was sobbing almost uncontrollably.

"Michi and Ino... they're dead," the girl reported. "Their throats… slit!"

"Sohryu, you monster!!" Meiko screamed. She swung her gun towards Hikari's head.

"You! You've been protecting this fuckin' bitch all this time! Both of you are planning to get us all killed, I knew it!"

Weapons of all sorts appeared out of nowhere, hidden under skirts, shirts, and jeans. Two more girls held their weapons, pistols, knives that were found hidden in the mess of bodies outside in the lounge, up to Asuka and Hikari, while the other two, one armed with a billy club, the other with a Glock automatic pistol, sought to protect their friend. They pointed their weapons towards the three who would hurt them.

Meiko kept at Hikari and Asuka, seething, "We all know Sohryu had a kitchen knife as a weapon, so it's hers! She's the killer!"

"And all of you saw that I took Asuka's weapon away from her," Hikari replied. "It's in the kitchen right now!"

"A likely story, class rep..." Meiko sneered. "You could have given her that knife at any time when we weren't looking!"

"Are you listening to yourselves? That's ridiculous! Besides, how could Asuka have killed both Michi and Ino along with Miyuki? It's impossible!"

"Listen to yourself! You're talking like you don't care about them? And you say impossible?! It's the only possibility, you damn fucking traitor!"

Asuka, who had remained relatively silent through this, chose this moment to try and defend herself. She sounded irritated, but her tone wavered.

"Hey! Look, I didn't kill those three! It was another girl, Urum- -"

"Shut up!" Meiko fired a shot into the wall to get her point across.

A sharp, short scream and three quick, consecutive cracks were heard. Howls of pain from Meiko quickly followed, and she clutched at her side. Blood spilled from where she was clutching at with her free hand, and she almost fell to her knees had it not been for another girl holding her up. She was still alive, but her breathing grew labored. Weapons were raised higher than before, the fingers slipping past the trigger guard and tightening around the triggers themselves, and one could only wait to see who would shoot first.

And in the middle of it all was Hikari, staring widely at the gaping bullet holes in Meiko's chest, as she held the smoking gun that had been the cause of those wounds.

One excuse tried to make its way out of her lips as she dropped the gun. "I… I couldn't…"

But between tear-rimmed eyelids, Hikari saw her makeshift group falling apart in front of her, and she knew she was going to die.

* * *

_31 participants remaining...  
_

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER 3**

**AUTHORS' NOTES**

**Ronald:** Wow, finally. It's about damn time! Reason why it took so long to bust this chapter out? School. Beer. Writer's block. And beer. Also, the new anime imports and manga were enough to keep me busy and away from the computer for a huge amount of time.

Also, the character Urumi? Yeah, cookies to anyone who can tell me the inspiration to her name and character. If you want the physical description of her, just look to Shinobu Maehara from Love Hina with glasses. I seriously cannot wait to unravel Shirota's entire history with you guys, but inquiring minds will just have to wait!

Thanks to Cast for helping out a lot with this chapter, thanks to Angry Pelican for some really good ideas for the characters, and thanks to Kenshiro for strutting his spring break vacation in my face as I had to juggle school and my personal life without a hitch, that bastard. _(**Kenshiro :** :) )_

**Kenshiro:** Not much to say, so I'll be brief. Sorry this took so long, but everybody gets sidetracked every once in a while. Schoolwork, personal stuff, Spring Break - - all that good stuff. Anyways, thanks for reading chapter 3, and thanks for being regular readers, as well as thanks to Cast and Pelican for their help.

The dedication is for an forum member who recently passed away. BloodyBrit was the founder of the Rose Garden group there, a fiction group dedicated to darkfiction. He died of cancer. He will be missed.

The pre-reading thank you for this chapter goes out to King Alar. Thanks for volunteering.


	5. Fourth Chapter: Unattainable Utopia

Welcome to chapter 4 of **The Program.  
**

* * *

_31 participants remaining..._

* * *

It was safe to cry now, Misato thought to herself. And so she did.

In the storage room that Hyuga and her occupied for the moment, she cried for the people who've died so far, she cried for the people who were still alive, and she cried for Shinji, who was still missing. The last trace she'd found from him came from the area they narrowly escaped before it turned into a forbidden zone, where any collar within its vicinity would explode in an instant. For all that she knew, Shinji could be dead already.

Hyuga tried his best to keep her spirits up. He found a few cups of instant-cook ramen, and offered one to Misato for lunch, but he found her inconsolable. He tried to talk to her.

"I'm sure Shinji knows better. He'd have avoided the forbidden areas on his own."

His comments were only answered by silence.

_I couldn't help you..._

_Yes, you did—_

_You could have died because of me._

_But I didn't, Shinji—_

_Just leave me here!_

The memory of Shinji's sad, blue eyes made Misato shiver. Those eyes did not belong to someone who wanted to survive.

"Shinji's dead. And there was nothing I could do to help him."

I couldn't be a mother to Shinji after all.

At that moment, Hyuga knew just how she felt, because he did not know how to help her either. He took one final sip from his soup cup, picked up the knife and gun Misato was carrying, and tucked them behind his back. He only knew one thing to do.

Hyuga placed a gentle hand on Misato's shoulder, and gave her a faint smile, a smile someone might give at a person's funeral. "Let's keep moving, okay?"

* * *

**The Program**

_An Evangelion fan fiction_

_based on the novel Battle Royale_

_by Koushun Takami_

_And the movie directed by Kinji Fukasaku_

_Written by:_

_Bad Ronald_

_Kenshiro Mitsui-san_

**Chapter 4: Unattainable Utopia  
**

* * *

How did it ever come to this?

Maya Ibuki dropped the bloodied shiv she held in her right hand and crawled away slowly from the man she had just killed. She stabbed him.

How did it ever come to this?

Her right hand left a trail of smudged gore, and she began to wipe it on her pant leg frantically, as if it was some toxic substance that would eat away at her skin.

But he asked for it, didn't he? Moments ago, Mamoru Ino was badly burned on his forearms and part of his face, and he claimed that he was unable to move his body. He also claimed that a cloud of fire jumped up in front of his face, and as he tried to put the flames out on his shirt sleeves, he took a big hit on the small of his back. He was alive, but his body couldn't be any more useless than it was.

"Take my weapon," he begged Maya. "Kill me now, please." Maya shook her head repeatedly and cried.

"Oh God, no! I can't kill you! We'll find some help!" was what she had replied with. "There's still hope!"

"Hope is dead in this place! Can't you see?! There's no hope here, there's no God either! There's nothing left for me. So kill me."

"NO!"

"If you don't kill me now, someone else will. So just do it. Please. Just set me free, please!"

What happened between then and the moment Maya sat holding the shiv was a blur to her. And the only way she knew how to cope was to run from it. She dashed towards the same direction she was traveling before she met Ino for the last time. Run, in the hopes that she'll wake up and say to herself it was a dream. She would get dressed, go to work, say hello to her co-workers, and to Sempai.

She took one last look at Mamoru's body. Mamoru, who, only last week, had tried to ask her out for dinner (but she declined; she had work to do with Sempai), was face down in a pool of his own blood. She ran some more.

It wasn't real. I would have to be insane if I had killed someone in real life.

How did it ever come to this?

* * *

Self-preservation was a thing of the past for Shinji Ikari. Perhaps that was why he was so eager to die, because, with the mindset of a dog with unwavering loyalty, he followed the sounds of the gunshots.

They sounded so far away, but he followed the echoes easily enough, and continued to tread along one direction

* * *

Hikari stared down several barrels of firearms at once and could only muster out, "H-hey...please..."

Her plea never reached their ears as one of the barrels exploded in response, and then Hikari could not breathe. She didn't know why until she looked down and saw blood spraying out from under her chin and realized that someone had shot her clean through the neck.

She stared as Kirie Mai dropped her gun in horror, the gun dropped next to Meiko's dead body, and Hikari fell to her knees, trying to tell all of them that she was sorry, she only wanted to help, she only wanted to be a good class rep and try and save them all, and then she turned to Asuka as Asuka stared at her with terror and fear in her eyes.

She wanted to tell Asuka that it shouldn't have been like this, that she tried her best, but she couldn't even talk anymore as the blood splattered all over Asuka.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Reika Ueda snapped up the barrel of her revolver and aimed it at Kirie Mai. "Why did you do that?! She was my friend!"

Vaguely registering the argument, time slowed down for the disgraced pilot Asuka Sohryu Langley as her eyes widened behind her fingers covering her face. She looked down at Hikari's own face on the ground, looked at the glassy-eyed expression, and looked at the blood pooling around her mouth.

Staring at her friend's dead body, Asuka choked out, "I don't want to die."

She could only murmur to herself as the girls started screaming hysterically at each other, their confusion giving way to sheer rage. The cocking of guns could now be heard amidst all the screaming.

Kirie begged for compassion.

"Please, I was panicked, please don't! We've been best friends since kindergarten! Don't—!"

Reika gave her none. Instead, with an angry tug of the trigger, she shot Kirie in the stomach, the bullet punching through, and her friends followed suit as Kirie's friends fought back furiously on her behalf.

"I don't want to die."

The girls were now killing amongst themselves, a confused squabble turned deadly with guns being shot and knives being thrown at each other. As Asuka fell to her knees, covering her ears and shutting her eyes, blood fanned out and decorated the walls along with the wayward bullets. It was so easy to die in this place.

"I don't want to die."

The big roar of Reika's revolver was lost under the tinny gunfire of the machine guns and the pistols distributed among the girls during The Program. Asuka didn't know, but Reika had been long dead, a hole punched in her head by an electric drill. She could feel the bodies falling all around her.

"I don't want to die."

Another shot, another cry of pain, then the same dull thud of a body hitting the floor. It was like a symphony of the dying. The whole room stank from the gun smoke and the entrails of the deceased. Asuka desperately tried to resist the urge to heave her most recent meal on the floor. The bile was supposed to reside in the stomach, not on the floor.

"I don't want to die."

Intestines were supposed to be inside the ribcage, not coiled all over the floor next to a butcher knife. Blood was supposed to be coursing in veins, not splattered on the walls. Everyone was supposed to be alive. Not dead.

"I don't want to die."

* * *

Hitomi Nakagawa waited silently in the candle-lit cubicle, one of many in the maze-like office area that she was hiding in. To risk any more light would mean giving away her position to any aggressors who would try to attack her. And if half of them were half as hostile as Ryuhei had been when he almost killed her, it was a very real danger.

Ryuhei. It had been an hour since he had gone off to find supplies for the both of them.

"I'm not sure we'll have enough food to last us," she had complained mildly when Ryuhei was still there. "They certainly didn't give us a lot of rations."

After a brief pause, Ryuhei had stood up and began to walk out of the cubicle.

"Wait, where are you going?" she pleaded. "Please, stay..."

Ryuhei answered her with such a timid tone that Hitomi almost didn't hear him. "Going to get some supplies."

"You know where to get some more food?"

With an imperceptible nod, Ryuhei broke off into a run. Hitomi could hear his footsteps grow faint, she felt her anxiety rising.

It's been too long; way too long, and it did nothing to relieve her nervousness. She kept her backpack close to her chest, holding it tight and hoped for Ryuhei's safe return.

He's changed, she thought, but she wasn't sure if it was for the better. He seemed surer of himself, more confident, but in that one moment where he fell to his knees and apologized to Hitomi, she sensed the same helpless look he once harbored in school. The kind of look he had when he was being bullied. She couldn't see too well with her own tears blurring her vision, but she knew what it was.

He was bigger too, she noticed. Ryuhei wasn't exactly a scarecrow, but he had the type of build that made him easy prey for people like Seto Araya. See him was a bit of a shock, he had the sleek build of a fighter. Despite the scars, he looked more grown up, Hitomi thought, not realizing that she was feeling a bit flush at the thought of it.

Hitomi unconsciously dropped the knife she held in her hand (Ryuhei gave it to her to replace her bamboo rod, Hitomi's assigned weapon), and its soft metallic clang brought her back to reality.

She reached down to grab it, then she slipped into the memory where she and Ryuhei picked it up on the way to the office area, in the metallic hallways— near Seto Araya's bleeding body. Next to it was a girl; her face appeared to be sliced up terribly. Hitomi had known her; this girl was the one that always tortured Ryuhei at school when he was younger. Looking at her battered and bruised face; she stared at the look of horror in her eyes. Ryuhei did not seem the least bit concerned when she looked up at him.

She had kept her distance; the corpses were starting to smell bad. Ryuhei had inched towards the bodies, avoiding eye contact with the corpses; face wrought with a deep pang of regret, or anger, or both, he had quickly snatched the knife up from the ground and hastened towards Hitomi.

"Let's go," he had said. Hitomi remembered that Ryuhei was always quite the taciturn boy, and said no more than what needed to be said.

"What happened to them?" Hitomi had asked. She got no answer, and Ryuhei had only seemed to pick up his pace.

Hitomi sighed, slipping out of the metallic hallways of the past and back into the reality of the candle-lit cubicle. She already knew what happened before she even asked the question; Ryuhei had killed them, his bullies. Hitomi felt conflicted as questions swirled in her mind. Yes, they were Ryuhei's bullies, but was it right to take revenge like that? No, of course not! Nobody deserved to die like that... Why, Ryuhei? How could you find it in yourself to perform such an atrocity?

What if you plan to do that to me, Ryuhei?

Hitomi found footsteps increasing gradually in volume, and her morbid thoughts did nothing to soothe her. Her grip on the knife squeezed tighter and tighter as the sounds drew nearer.

She let out a quick, sharp shriek as Ryuhei seemingly popped out of nowhere, sporting two extra backpacks. His shirt was streaked with new splashes of fresh blood, the bottom of his pants and shoes literally soaked with the stinking red liquid, and Hitomi could see a crimson skin flap hanging on Ryuhei's scalp, near his ear.

"Ryuhei!" Hitomi exclaimed, her eyes wide with fright, focusing on the shirt and head wound. Almost instinctively, she took a water bottle and a piece of cloth, and started to move forward, wet cloth in hand.

Ryuhei slightly moved backwards, but Hitomi would have none of it.

"Ryuhei, please, we have to treat your wounds," Hitomi pleaded. "Who did this to you?"

Ryuhei looked down at his shoes, acting grudgingly as he answered her. "I'm not hurt. I... I just got the supplies for you, it's no big deal."

The look of confusion only grazed Hitomi's face briefly, and grim reality quickly set in her features. The blood all over Ryuhei's shirt and face wasn't his. She almost dropped the wet cloth she was holding as she saw Ryuhei peel off the bloody skin flap off his scalp and drop it on the ground, trying to avoid her horrified eyes.

Hitomi wanted to ask so desperately, "Why?" – but the very word stopped making its way out, lodged itself in her throat; she found herself having a little difficulty breathing.

Ryuhei looked up at her face, she could see his brown eyes through the jagged scars surrounding them.

He tried to manage a weak smile, but the corners of his mouth refused to rise the minute he saw the look on Hitomi's face.

"I... I got the supplies you wanted..." There was no guile in his voice. It was very straightforward and frank, and one would even say heartfelt.

Hitomi could have chastised him right there, scolded him for doing such a bad thing –perhaps she should have— but she didn't. Maybe she was scared of him (and who wouldn't be), or maybe she saw the look on his face desperately apologizing, and that was enough for her. Or maybe she was touched by such a macabre show of affection—

In any case, she slowly moved towards him and raised the wet cloth in her hand to wipe his brow. Ryuhei was going to move again, but hesitated, and let her touch the veins and creases burnt into his face.

* * *

Shinji was only five minutes too late. By the time he arrived in front of the cafeteria and pushed and rammed the barricaded door until the haphazardly-set chairs on the other side collapsed, the gunshots that rang out into the hallways fell suddenly silent, a sound more powerful than the loud bangs themselves. The cafeteria was clear, save for the bodies of two girls, Michi and Ino. Shinji recognized them. They had been two of the students asking Shinji on his first day of school eager questions about the Evangelion he piloted. Both had deep cuts on the side of their necks. Suppressing the nauseating that inched up his throat, he tore his eyes away from the bodies and began to follow the thin trail of blood that led to the NERV kitchens.

Shinji could have sworn to God that he heard something inside. It wasn't so much a voice as it was an echo, some faint whisper that had no relation to anything alive, like some long-forgotten memory. Each footstep drew him nearer into the kitchen, increasing the volume of the noise. It might be a survivor, clinging on to dear life as it bled away from him. It might be a ghost, smiling at the good fortune provided to him by his death. Or it could be the killer, willing to provide the release he so desperately sought.

The answer came to him in a girl in red, head hung low, kneeling down on a red-splattered tile floor littered with grotesqueries of what were once living bodies, and kitchen utensils. The long, disheveled hair which hid a face of one who had seen too much in too little time reflected the mood of the moment and the soul of its owner.

Shinji did not know what to do logically, so he did what came to him naturally.

"Asuka. Are you still alive?" he gingerly asked in a whisper as he inched closer towards the girl. "What happened here?"

He placed three fingers on her left shoulder and nudged her lightly.

"Asuka," he repeated, his voice a little louder but not stronger. "You got to help me. Please, you're finally awake, you got to help."

No response.

"Asuka," he repeated, his voice a little louder, whinier. "Please, what happened to everyone? Was it you? Was it someone else? You have to say something, dammit!"

No response.

"Asuka," he repeated, now shouting. "You have to do something, godammit! Help me, yell at me, call me names like you always do! Just give me something!"

No response.

"Fucking do something, Asuka! Please, help me, or just fucking kill me—!"

If Shinji had anything more to say, he couldn't; Asuka's delicate hands were wrapped around his throat too tightly. She attacked out of nowhere with the ferocity of a madman.

Asuka sat on Shinji's stomach. Her hands sought more strength to kill the sniveling baby that she now held. She didn't want to hear his whining anymore. She didn't want to see his face anymore. The hate ate away at her, corroding a heart seldom seen by anyone, especially him.

This pathetic child, wanting to die when so many others didn't deserve to. It's not fair to them.

But it's oh, so easy.

It was too easy, wasn't it? To let it all go, to leave everything at the hands of someone else?

Why hadn't I thought of it sooner, like he did?

She glared into his eyes. His eyes reddened at the pressure exerted on his throat, and tears swelled at the corners of them, but his stare told the story of one who was looking for a path with the least resistance, and finally found it.

Help me, his eyes said.

Her hands tightened, and she could hear his gurgles as spatters of his drool fell on her face.

No.

Asuka's hands shook, desperately trying to keep the grip she had on Shinji's throat, and failing. Her grip relaxed, but her hands stayed where they were. She closed her eyes, disgusted at herself for not being inflexible enough in her decision, and started sobbing quietly.

It was too easy.

Shinji's nausea returned with a vengeance, slamming full on in his stomach and churning it to the point where it made his vision blur, but he couldn't. His insides felt empty as his soul, and the best he could manage was a violent cough.

"I feel sick."

* * *

_"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."_

_The screaming man paid no attention. Kitano was roaring in pain, he was staring at the ceiling, the walls, the floor. His head swiveled on his neck like a toy with a broken string. He foamed at the mouth, the rank liquid consisting of a mixture of sweat and saliva forming a puddle on the stone floor._

_Shirota had to look away to catch a breath, which set his eyes on the iron chair that lay twenty feet away with another such man inside it. That man no longer resembled anything human. He looked as if his head had been turned inside out, a pastel lump of grey-white brain and bone forming a decorative corpse._

_Shirota blinked, and then exhaled the breath he had been holding. He needed to turn his attention to the task at hand._

_And so he did._

_Holding the screaming man's hand tightly, he continued pulling the trigger of the nail gun under Kitano's fingernails, and with a whoosh of air and the sound of metal nails punching through flesh and breaking through bones, Kitano shrieked in so much pain and thrashed against his restraints. Cords stood out in his neck, and he howled, retching with pain. Hot tears and drool and blood splashed on the wooden table as Shirota stood up, not listening at all to Kitano's frantic babbling. His face was blank and emotionless._

_He had his orders, now. He was to be a tool for their personal entertainment. He was going to be the executioner, but he had to make it slow and painful as possible, or they would kill him. And he wanted to live._

_God help him, he wanted to live._

_Was that so bad? Was that so horrible that he had to do this?_

_Shirota looked up at the viewing glass up on the ceiling. The room he was in had once been an observation operation room, so the captors were watching him, making sure that he did everything they wanted. He could not see their features clearly; all he knew was there was three of them. Shirota stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. It was a miracle that Kitano had not passed out from the pain._

_Not a beneficiary miracle, but a miracle nonetheless._

_Kitano's wrists were bound on the metal chair with handcuffs, and he was raving deliriously, his speech was incomprehensible._

_Shirota stared at Kitano, who now resembled the past victims that Shirota had already tortured for the sick amusement of the captors and for his own promised freedom. After the victims had lost a few appendages, they had always started blabbering nonsensically. He could never figure out exactly why they had done that._

_"Is it the loss of blood? Is it the pain?" he quietly asked the shrieking Kitano, staring straight into the madness. Veins lined the victim's face now; he was drooling at the mouth, his pupils were dilated into pinpricks. Bits of his teeth were actually chipped off, and his tongue had been bitten off long ago, leaving a bloody slice of amputated flesh where it should have been._

_Shirota looked down at Kitano's arms. They were twitching violently and spasmodically. Kitano's broken fingers only trembled like small, slight birds nearing expiration. He had broken them himself, scrabbling madly at any nearby surface like some sort of crazed animal. Deep line-wounds were visible on Kitano's arms, still oozing drops of blood. Sometimes it was amazing how much a body could stand._

_When Shirota had cut open the arms of the past victim and sprinkled in broken glass and salt and sewn the wounds shut, the captors had nodded in appreciation and amusement. The captors had wanted him to do the same to Kitano, and it was all Shirota could do not to run away when Kitano had started begging to be returned to his daughter and bed-ridden wife during the start of the torture. Shirota could still hear the mocking insults from above directed toward Kitano. He never did do the glass torture. But he had started the torture of Kitano and now he had to finish it._

_He picked up a small letter opener and looked up at the viewing pod, where the three men, shrouded in darkness, stared down at him. They looked at him like he was an idiot, and he looked back down at the letter opener to examine it closely. It was very small, and very thin, but the point had been sharpened to pierce through flesh and there were dozens of tiny ridges cut into the rust-free, gleaming steel sides that made the letter opener serrated. He looked back up at the men, wondering where they wanted him to cut with this._

_"The urethra." One had said. One of them giggled, a freakishly sickening sound that reverberated through the chiefly silent room, even slicing through Kitano's pained cries with ease._

_Shirota felt his bottom lip shaking. When he had started the torture, he went through it like a surgeon, blocking out the screams and torturing Kitano with ease. In that moment of daze and enrapture, he forgot everything._

_And now, the moment of his concentration broke. He started at Kitano and surveyed his handiwork with so much horror. How could he actually have done that? Was he so justified in wanting to live?_

_The human animal was innately selfish. But these men had been his comrades for so long... how could he do this? How could he do this? Shouldn't he just have died?_

_As he stepped towards Kitano with the letter opener, he saw that the bound man, having taken up so much pain, had died. Shirota let the letter opener drop and stared up at the viewing pod, watching the shoulders of the three voyeurs slump in disappointment. One of them sighed. Another raised his eyebrows and his eyes seemed to light up. A cruel smirk played across the side of his mouth._

_"Tragic. But you have done well."_

_Another spoke up, seemingly suppressing his demented laughter. "A work of art. Life at its finest."_

_"And death at its purest." The third said, crossing his arms. "You may go."_

_Shirota looked to the iron-bolt door and heard it open, the hinges creaking. Then the iron-bolt door slammed open.  
_

* * *

_23 participants remaining...  
_

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER 4**

**AUTHORS' NOTES**

**Ronald:** Oh shit. Looks like I'm going to have to take the blunt of the attacks.

Thank loads, Kenshiro, you damn asshole. This chapter took me so long to write because I had so much to do, and because I was so busy in my life that I did not have adequate time to sit down and work on this.

God, am I THAT bad in lying? Well, you'll have to admit, we all get a little lazy sometimes.

Yeah, the next chapter will come up. Hopefully. _(Glares at Kenshiro)_

Also, Hellboy rocks.

_(Huggles Hellboy movie DVD set and kicks aside Street Fighter 2 Animated Movie DVD with disdain for not having subtitles or even a fucking menu)_

**Kenshiro: **Man, it took a while to write this. Not that it was so difficult or anything, but it's just that we're lazy asses. And liars. We promised 2 chapters for the next update, but obviously, that isn't happening. The next update will come a little quicker, though. Or not. Cause we're fucking liars.

Some people are probably wondering: "What kind of sick bastards would write a story about kids killing each other?" Well, I can assure you that Ron and I are perfectly normal people who enjoy normal things. I love sunshine and listening to The Carpenters, while Ron has a knack for feng shui.

Ok, maybe not, but we're not some deranged vampire wannabes with evil names like Melchior or Shyamalamadingdong _(Dude, the Village sucks ass. – Ron)_ and keep blogs about how we like to drink blood while we listen to emo _(no offense to the real vampires who might be reading)._ We do not tolerate or endorse the type of violence portrayed in this story. We're just two sexy guys paying homage to a movie and a cartoon by writing about it, and if we tried any of the crap on it, there would be serious criminal and social repercussions. Why state the obvious, you say? Well, there are idiots out there looking to blame popular media instead of realizing their failures in parenting their children _(Google "Rockstar" and "sued" for one recent example)_, and I feel like getting this message across to persons who might not get it, or persons who would be taking us too seriously.

You'll never see me bitching about anything again. See you next chapter.


	6. First Minichapter: GTI

Respect, bitches! Welcome to the long-overdue update of **The Program**. This is mini-chapter 1.

* * *

**The Program**

Mini-Chapter 1: G.T.I.

* * *

Being one of the top computer technicians working for the group known as NERV, a little situation like having to kill a few of his old co-workers to survive was not a problem at all for Taro Ichida.

After all, he was the Great Taro Ichida, who graduated at the top of his class at America's own MIT university, who single-handedly raised his own money to pay for his ticket to the States and for his tuition. The very same Taro Ichida who rose from Tokyo-1's slums and into notoriety among the tech community, making something out of practically nothing. If he could overcome such odds, he could win this contest.

Making something out of nothing was his specialty.

A little less than 5 hours ago, the only weapon he had in his backpack was a seemingly useless and loud megaphone. Other than to proclaim his greatness, how else would Taro Ichida use this for good?

"**OK EVERYONE! THIS IS TARO ICHIDA. CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME? I HAVE A PLAN, SO ANYBODY WHO CAN HEAR THIS MESSAGE, JUST COME TOWARDS THE SOUND OF MY VOICE!"**

An hour later, he managed to collect a billy club, a large fillet knife, a container of pepper spray, and three very dead bodies; 2 schoolchildren and a former female worker who wouldn't sleep with him (now that bitch isn't sleeping with anybody). After the third victim, the megaphone he used to lure people towards him (and later, bashed them over the head with it) stopped working. He quickly slipped away from the scene before he attracted any other wolves that might follow.

After all, he was the very same great Taro Ichida who had spent a decade with the JSDF as a scout, tracking and killing military targets, even training with the US Navy Seals themselves. Taro Ichida was a master hunter and stalker, and he always got his prey.

As great as Taro Ichida was, ultimate greatness eluded him because of one single thing. Others have marveled at his achievements, both military and technologically. He informed them, as was his modest duty, about how he once assassinated a Yakuza boss with chopsticks, even mimicking the exact move he used to pierce and cut his jugular like a twig using a basketball (a sport he excelled in). Not to matter that the chopsticks fumbled out of his hands when he tried to demonstrate it to his fellow coworkers, the important thing was that he had actually done it. Those fools would never know how important he would be to the world. He had also humbly let them know about how he saved his entire platoon from an immediate napalm attack by carrying each and every one of them, one at a time, while a sniper was trying to pick him off. He also added, as a small aside, insignificant, really, compared to his other achievements, how he had helped design the MAGI system for NERV, helping Dr. Akagi solve the final logarithm for the computers' AI. However...

* * *

"_Hello there, ma'am."_

"_..."_

"_I don't think I've seen you around these parts. You must be new."_

"_I've been working here for four years."_

_"Oh. What's your name again? I'm trying to remember, I think I've seen you around here before."_

"_But you just said—"_

"_Miyuki, right?"_

"_No... Ibuki."_

"_No, no, your first name. Let's skip the formalities."_

"_...Maya."_

_"Maya Ichida. So beautiful and fitting, don't you think? It would be very enchanting on my _"completed"_ list."_

"_Excuse me!"_

_"It's nothing of much importance, young Maya. I'm Taro. Remember that, because it'll suit you well in the future in so many ways."_

"_I'd rather not."_

_"Feeling playful, are we? Shall we remedy that?"_

_"I have work to do with Dr. Akagi right now. I'm sorry. I don't have time for this."_

_"You can bring her if you wish. The more the merrier, as the Romans say. And when in Rome-"_

"_..."_

_"Wait. Please. Don't leave yet. Listen, the thing is, I would like to offer you to a drink. Perhaps something... stiff."_

**_-SLAP-  
_**

* * *

Yes, the seemingly perfect man was, indeed, not perfect, as he was missing the perfect woman to join his (bed)side. And so, Taro Ichida concocted a plan so great that it would require all of his strengths and cunning to execute. No longer would she sidestep all of Taro's advances. With a plan so great, Miss Miyuki would have no choice but to throw herself into Taro's muscular arms.

Taro Ichida spent his night locked inside one of NERV's secondary control rooms. Before dawn, there were cables and wires strewn across the floor, empty cups of coffee were littered everywhere, and Taro was hunched down over a keyboard and screen, furiously typing out commands. Connected to a peripheral port was a flash key with the word _"TaroTools" _scribbled on the side with a felt tip pen.

Indeed, the Great Taro Ichida was doing the seemingly impossible; he was hacking into The Program's system. More specifically, the system that controlled the tracking collars fitted on each and every participant.

Taro Ichida would be the hero! Once the collars were disabled, he would lead his loyal co-workers into victorious battle against the few soldiers left in the complex, and reclaim the Geofront for NERV once again. Once Taro received his promotion to second-in-command from Commander Ikari himself, Miss Miyuki and he would have... a wedding! A wedding, fit for the hero of Tokyo-3. Many fans and dignitaries would attend and have the honor of meeting Taro Ichida himself... and then the honeymoon...

No, no, it is too early, he thought as he laughed out loud. He must first finish this fight... with one press of the -enter- key.

He laughed so heartily that he hardly noticed the urgent beeping noise coming from his neck.

* * *

"Sergeant, another one just died." 

The person overseeing the security for the Program at the moment walked over to his subordinate and looked at the info on the screen.

"How did he die?"

"Looks like the stupid idiot got caught in a forbidden zone. He was there for at least 4-5 hours."

"That's pathetic. All right, take the name down for the next announcement."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

_19 participants remaining…  
_

* * *

**THIS HAS BEEN A KENSHI N RON JOINT**

**WE OUT  
**

* * *

**Authors' Notes**

**Kenshi:** Did you miss us? After a long hiatus, The Program is back with more tales of awesomeness, and the next real update will contain not one, but two chapters for your reading pleasure! This so-called mini-chapter is just something we wrote very quickly to shake off the writing cobwebs in our heads right now, and we hope you enjoyed it. See you next update.

Subject to change _(Not on my fucken watch. – Ronald)_

**Ronald: **Hey, you know when I was sometimes bitching about how high school sucks and stuff and how it couldn't get worse? Man, college just came back and totally screwed me over just to show me exactly how bad it could get, and how much further my sanity could be stretched before I lost all the aspects of reality. Well, after a simple visit to the mental institution, the story has come back along with me. I may be one to start my fics and not finish them, but this won't be one of them!

I hope.

Right?

Anyway, enjoy this small pissbox of a chapter until the next real chapter comes along. And see you next chapter.


End file.
